Assignment for Webb
by Bernadeen
Summary: Harm takes on a dangerous assignment to help bring down a drug cartel. A Harm and Mac adventure that brings about important changes in their relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Assignment for Webb

By Bernadeen

Rated: M

_For those of you who have read some of my other stories, I promised a Harm & Mac JAG adventure/romance story – and finally here it is. It's essentially complete except for some minor tweaks as I make the postings. I expect to post chapters every day or two. Hope you enjoy._

_A/N by way of background: I started this story at least a couple of years ago. It started out to be set about four months prior to little AJ's fifth birthday … and therefore, nearing the time when the "Baby Deal" would occur .. or not._

_However, after seeing "Measure of Men," it began to evolve into something else because Mac had treated Harm so cruelly (in my opinion) in that episode. Eventually I split the two stories and wrote a separate one which will be set after "Measure of Men" but prior to "JAG-a-thon" when H&M are at odds with each other. I'm a shipper, but Mac treated Harm so badly that I may not let her have him .. we'll see. That story is "Decisions" and is unfinished at present. _

_As editing began on this story, it took on a life of its own with the focus on "The Baby Deal" only incidental. It now involves Harm going under cover to infiltrate a drug cartel. I'm finding I have no control over the direction my stories go! I just type the words and hang on for the ride. Want to go along?_

**Assignment for Webb**

By Bernadeen

Disclaimer: I don't own nor make any claim to the JAG characters. Other characters are mine. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter 1**

_North of Union Station  
__Monday, January 17  
__1930 EST_

Another year beginning. Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. relaxed at home listening to music and mused about where he was in his life. He was usually at home when not traveling on a case. No social life. He shook his head .. no desire for a social life. Wow, not yet forty and he was becoming a hermit! It really didn't bother him that he didn't have a girlfriend .. and hadn't had one for some time. Relationships were emotionally draining and a lot of work. And for what? You just got dumped sooner or later anyway!

What bothered him was that he felt like he was losing his edge in his profession. Somehow, the cases didn't ignite a fire in his gut like they used to. He remembered when he approached even the less serious cases with energy and determination. Now he seemed to be marking time. He felt no passion in his cases. So far he didn't believe he had sacrificed a client's right to adequate representation. But he worried that it would happen sooner or later. The frightening thing was that he should have been really bothered by that thought, but he couldn't raise that level of concern either.

He really needed a change of assignment. He had been at JAG HQ for most of his legal career in the Navy .. except for the six months he had gone back to aviation. He could never really regret that time .. he had to prove to himself that he could still cut it as a Naval aviator. He had done that and earned a second Distinguished Flying Cross before returning to JAG. The fact remained that his return to flying was too late to make it his career. And so many things had gone wrong in his personal life from that time on, that he wondered what would have happened if he hadn't left.

When he left to return to flying, his girlfriend, Jordon, made it clear she wanted to date a lawyer, not a pilot, and broke off their relationship. His best friend and partner Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, hadn't understood why he left. He thought she, of all people, would, but it was a bad time in her life. Her estranged father had just died, her mother who had abandoned her showed up and left again, her little "sister" was leaving to be with her family, and then her best friend, namely him, also left her. She believed everyone she cared about was abandoning her … again. He hadn't thought about it enough at the time .. he was so focused on his chance to fly again. Damn him for being so self-centered, he thought. If he hadn't been so blind, maybe he and Mac could have worked things out. But by the time he came back, she was close friends with Mic, the brash Aussie.

He couldn't fault her, though. He had left, after all. What had he expected? He hadn't really thought about what he expected. Somehow he assumed everything and everyone would be just the same when he came back to JAG. It wasn't, and he had been naïve to think that nothing would change. Life at JAG had gone on.

Even though he was pursuing his first love – flying – he missed Mac more than he expected. Ever since they had been assigned as partners, they had been there for each other .. saving each other's sixes on more than one occasion. He missed their discussions, their teasing. Mac always managed to keep Harm anchored with her practical common sense and refusal to play to his ego. They knew each other's flaws and admired and respected each other in spite of or perhaps because of them.

And then there was the "Baby Deal," made the day Bud and Harriet's little AJ was born. Five years from that day, if neither of them was in a relationship, they would go halves on a baby. Her looks and his brains or his looks and her brains .. it would work either way. They had made a promise and shook hands on it. He thought about that deal many times while he was away flying.

While it was only later when Mac was preparing to marry Brumby that Harm finally acknowledged to himself that he was in love with her, he was beginning to have an inkling of his feelings thinking of the baby deal. First of all, he really didn't expect both of them would be free at the end of five years, so it was a safe promise. But what if they were? He was a bit embarrassed with himself when he realized he was fantasizing about fulfilling the baby deal the "old fashioned way." Mac was his best friend .. he didn't think about her that way. But the more he thought about it, he wondered why he didn't. She was beautiful, capable, tough, intelligent .. his equal in every respect – more than his equal in some things, though he would never admit that. He realized he was beginning to think of her as a woman first and a Marine second .. and that was treading on very dangerous ground, both emotionally and professionally.

By the time he returned to JAG, he had put those thoughts behind him, or so he thought. His relationship with Mac was strained. She resented his leaving to go flying. For his part, he was uncomfortable because he really was having difficulty ignoring the fact that she was a beautiful, desirable woman. And then that disaster on the ferry in Sydney Harbor ..

Mac tried to tell him how she felt .. that she wanted to be more than just his partner .. and he froze. He tried to ask her to wait, but she heard it as rejection. She was hurt, embarrassed, and ran straight into Brumby's arms.

She had made her choice and his pride and honor wouldn't let him compete with Brumby for her. He had been way out of line the night of Mac's engagement party when he kissed her and tried to tell her how he felt. Even then he backed way, only wanting her happiness. Everything really went to hell after he nearly died at sea, trying to get back for her wedding. The last few months had been torture. She built an unassailable wall between them, and finally he had given up. Whatever she had felt for him .. friendship, possibly love .. was clearly gone. They continued to work together, but both were assigned other partners from time to time. They were no longer a team.

And somewhere along the line, he began losing his edge. His thoughts had come full circle .. he had started an hour ago thinking he needed a change of assignment. But where? The Admiral was very astute about his people's abilities and performance. If he hadn't already seen problems with Harm's attitude, he soon would. It would be better to talk to the Admiral before he really screwed up a case and faced disciplinary action. Yes, tomorrow ..

_JAG HQ  
__Tuesday, January 18  
__0800 EST_

Harm arrived at work and put his briefcase and cover in his office. He sat down at his desk to gather his thoughts before asking to see the Admiral. His mind wasn't entirely made up and he needed to give some more thought to the problem in the clearer light of morning. A few minutes later, however, Tiner stopped in his office doorway and told him the Admiral wanted to see him ASAP.

Harm entered his CO's office and stood at attention. "Reporting as ordered, Sir."

"At ease, Commander. Have a seat." Admiral Chegwidden studied a communication on his desk for a minute before continuing. "I have a rather unusual assignment for you, but it's strictly voluntary." He paused and looked up at Harm before continuing. "Webb called," he said and watched the Commander's involuntary flinch. "Several government agencies, including the CIA, have been working together to break up a drug import operation from South America and Mexico. Two agents had succeeded in infiltrating separate parts of the drug organization. One was a pilot who flew some deliveries. Two nights ago, his plane crashed and both he and the other pilot were killed. From what we can learn, it was an accident. The cartel didn't know he was CIA.

The Admiral stopped speaking when a knock sounded on his door. "Enter," he called expectantly, and Clayton Webb, Assistant Director of the CIA, walked into his office. Webb and Harm acknowledged each other with a nod and Chegwidden looked toward Webb. "I told the Commander about the drug cartel and the death of the two pilots. Webb, perhaps you'd like to explain the assignment," the Admiral said, an edge to his voice.

"We want to get another agent into the cartel. They're likely to be searching for a pilot to replace the ones they lost." Webb looked directly at Harm. "You have a wide variety of combat, special ops, and aviation experience. We want to set you up to be a likely candidate for the cartel to approach as their new pilot."

Harm's face registered his surprise. "You must have lots of other pilots that you could recruit? Don't you think I'm a little too well known to go undercover?"

Webb answered, "Being well known won't be a problem. You're going to be yourself. The cover is that you'll be accused of drug possession. Your arrest will be well publicized. Even though the evidence is shaky, your Navy career is over. You cut a deal – dishonorable discharge, loss of all benefits, but no confinement. You're disillusioned, down on your luck, and you'll be in the right place at the right time to be recruited by the cartel."

Admiral Chegwidden needed to make the risks clear. "The reason this assignment is voluntary is the risks. It's practically a no-win situation for you. If you go through with the drug possession set up and the cartel doesn't contact you, it will be difficult to reverse your discharge without revealing the set up. If we break the cartel, it can be done. Until then, you'd be stuck with a ruined Navy career. No guarantees.

"If you do succeed in getting inside the cartel and you're discovered, they'll kill you without a second's hesitation. Even if the whole operation is successful and the cartel is brought down, there is the risk that we won't get every member. They could put out a contract on you to keep you from testifying. If everything goes perfectly – and you know the odds against that – more people will remember your drug possession charge than ever hear that it was unfounded.

"To make matters worse, you can tell no one. Only Webb and I will know. Bud, Mac, your mother – everyone has to believe you've gotten yourself involved in drugs.

"Commander, it's a lousy assignment, and I can't give you much time to think about it. Webb believes that we need to move quickly before the cartel can find another pilot. If you accept the assignment, we'll play it out in a week .. two at the most. Lots of publicity when the story breaks .. you've been on some high profile assignments and the media will grab the story of the Navy hero in disgrace," the Admiral finished.

Harm had been listening intently. The danger of the assignment itself was a challenge he believed he was ready for. But to possibly irreversibly give up his Navy career in disgrace .. and for his mother to believe he had gotten into drugs .. it would be devastating for her. "I understand the importance of the assignment and the risks. The worst would be for my mother .. for her to think it was all true would hurt her too much .."

"All right, Harm. Before the story breaks, I'll arrange a secure call for you to tell her not to believe everything she reads in the papers. You won't be able to tell her anything else .. she'll just have to trust you and go along. Will she do that?" Webb asked.

"I think I can get her to do that." He paused thoughtfully. "The staff here at JAG couldn't know anything ..? I mean, Bud and Harriett, Sturgis .. ?"

"We've got to keep this tightly contained. The more people who know, the more chance there is that your cover will be blown and you'll be killed. Your friends' reactions have to be genuine. I'm sorry, Harm," Webb explained.

As Harm nodded, still pondering his decision, AJ felt compelled to add, "you haven't mentioned Colonel MacKenzie. You're not concerned about her reaction?"

Harm nearly snorted. "Certainly you've noticed, Admiral, that Mac and I hardly speak. Her opinion of me no longer matters, and I'm sure she'll believe the worst," he said bitterly.

The Admiral felt an instant of sadness at the bitterness in the other officer's voice. Those two had been one of the best teams he had ever worked with. They had been close friends and now they could barely tolerate each other. AJ had considered sending one of them on a temporary assignment to give them some breathing room. This mission that Webb was suggesting was definitely _not_ what he had in mind, however.

AJ offered no response to Harm's statement and waited for Harm's decision. After a few seconds, Harm looked from the Admiral to Webb. "With the Admiral's permission, and if he can spare me for an indefinite period of time, I'll take the assignment."

The Admiral looked at him sadly and said gruffly, "As I said, it's your decision. I just hope you know what you're doing." His voice softened slightly as he held out his hand. "Good luck, Harm. And take care."

After Harm agreed to meet Webb later that morning in a secure location away from JAG to go over the operational details of the assignment, he returned to his office to try to work normally. At 1100 he told Tiner he had an appointment regarding a case and left the office to meet Webb.

_JAG HQ  
__Tuesday  
__1400 EST_

Harm returned from his meeting with Webb. Things would be moving quickly now. There was no turning back. He had called his mother and tried to prepare her without telling her anything. She knew enough about his many varied assignments during his Navy career to understand, without having to be told, that this was something unusual and dangerous. As a mother, she was scared, but she understood the risks of a military career. She had a feeling that she would have to gather all her strength for the days ahead.

Closing his office door, Harm reviewed the plan. He would leave the office at 1630 to drive home. An anonymous tip would alert the police to watch for a red Corvette with drugs in it. To make sure he would be stopped, Harm would speed and perhaps break a few other traffic laws. Between speeding and having the tip about drugs, the police would have probable cause to open the glove box, where they would find just enough cocaine to get him charged with possession but not enough for a charge of dealing.

He would ask Bud to defend him. He dreaded the look of disappointment he knew Bud would have .. Harm knew he had always been Bud's hero, though, in Harm's opinion, Bud didn't need a hero. Bud was his own hero … he had proven himself as an excellent lawyer with a quick mind and his own style in a court room. Still, Harm would be able to convince Bud to do the deal he wanted. His only concern had been the prosecuting attorney. If it was Sturgis, he could be a bit self-righteous and might hold out for confinement. Likewise, Mac would go for blood. So it was decided that the Admiral himself would handle the prosecution. That made sense since Harm was a senior attorney and to have equal ranking attorneys prosecuting might not appear objective.

At 1630 Harm threw some files in his briefcase, as he often did, grabbed his cover, and left the office. As he prepared to pull out of the parking lot, he noticed a police car parked a half block away in the opposite direction. He dropped the Vette in low and squealed out onto the street. Well, that was fun anyway!

He turned down a less busy street and ran through the gears until he was approaching fifty before having to slow for a stop light. He proceeded to lay more rubber when the light turned green, and heard the first notes of a police siren. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he saw flashing red and blue lights quickly approaching. Harm pulled to the curb, and the police cruiser parked behind him. The officer walked to the Vette's window and stooped slightly to look at Harm. The officer seemed slightly taken aback by Harm's uniform. "You in a hurry, Commander?" he asked rather pleasantly.

"Come on, officer. I wasn't going that fast!" Harm used his most arrogant voice.

"License and registration, sir." The police officer demanded much less pleasantly.

Harm reached over to fumble in the glove box. In the early evening darkness, the police officer followed his hand with his flashlight. The first thing the officer saw was Harm's service pistol in its holster slide partly out of the glove box. The police officer quickly stepped back, drew his weapon, and in a steely voice said, "Commander, please step out of the car."

"I thought you wanted my registration …" Harm started to say exasperatedly.

"Commander, step out of the car … now!" It was not a request.

Harm defiantly took his time unwinding his long body out of the small sportscar and stood leaning slightly against the car. "Face the car, sir. Hands behind your head." As Harm slowly complied, the officer thumbed his radio and called for backup. In minutes another cruiser pulled up. While the two new arrivals searched Harm's person for weapons, the first officer opened the passenger door to look in the still open glove box. A minute later, he stood up and confronted Harm with a small bag of white powder. "So, going to have a happy evening, were you? Sorry to spoil it. You're under arrest for possession of narcotics. You have the right to remain silent …"

'Well, everything was going according to plan, so far,' Harm thought. The police continued to search his car. They put him in the back of one of the police cruisers and drove to the nearest police station. He was none too gently processed and finally allowed to make a phone call. He called the Admiral, who told him this was a charge the Navy would certainly want to handle, but that the transfer couldn't be made until morning. Harm would have to spend the night in jail. "But Admiral …" Harm began to protest.

He was cut short with a sharp, "Commander .."

Nothing more needed to be said. "Understood, sir," Harm replied. With a sigh, he hung up the phone and was escorted to a jail cell.


	2. Chapter 2

Assignment for Webb

By Bernadeen

**Chapter 2**

_JAG HQ  
__Wednesday  
__0755 EST_

The Admiral had ordered a staff call for 0800. This was an unusual event for mid week. Staff briefings tended to be Mondays to get assignments for the week or Fridays for wrap up reports. Mac looked around the room. Harm and Bud were both missing. As chief of staff, she should have known where they were, but she didn't. An uneasy prickle ran down her back .. something she hadn't felt since the days when she was Harm's partner and he was in trouble.

At precisely 0800 a grim faced Admiral Chegwidden entered the room and sat at the head of the table. Even then he hesitated, as though reluctant to announce bad news. Mac's heart rate accelerated as the trickle of fear became more pronounced.

"Last night on the way home from here, Commander Rabb was stopped for speeding."

Sturgis felt his lips twitch. 'It was bound to happen sooner or later with that Vette,' he thought to himself. Any humor in the situation was stripped away with the Admiral's next words.

"A routine search of the Commander's car produced two ounces of cocaine."

There was a faint and collective gasp from the assembled staff. Mac felt the trickle of fear turn into a cold wind of panic. 'Calm down,' she scolded herself. 'There's got to be a mistake.'

The Admiral continued, "Obviously, this is a case the Navy wants to deal with itself. Lieutenant Roberts is processing the paperwork as we speak. He will defend, at the Commander's request. Given the Commander's high rank and his many years of service in this office, I won't order any of you to prosecute. I'll take care of that myself.

"This will likely hit the media as soon as some enterprising reporter sees the name on the police arrest report and puts two and two together. There is to be no comment to the press from anyone in this office. I will issue any statements after they are cleared with the SecNav. Is that understood?"

A chorus of "yes, sir," gave the Admiral the assurance that they understood the order.

"Commander Rabb is on administrative leave pending resolution of the charges. That'll be all. Dismissed." The Admiral rose and walked quickly from the room, hoping to discourage further discussion with any of the staff.

He had watched Colonel MacKenzie's face during his announcement. He had wondered at Harm's bitter words that Mac wouldn't care what happened to him. The former partners had been estranged ever since Harm had almost died in the Atlantic and Mac's wedding was cancelled. The Admiral tried not to get involved in his staff's personal lives unless it affected their work. The friction between his two senior officers was almost as difficult to deal with as the other situation that he had fully expected to occur. He was a good judge of people, and he was usually pretty accurate at reading what they were feeling and at anticipating their actions. The day Mac and Harm met, he saw something happen, and had warned them not to get too close because they had to work together. In spite of his warning, he expected someday to have to separate the two in the chain of command because of a romantic relationship.

While it was clear to the Admiral that there once were strong feelings between them, they had never acted on those feelings to his knowledge. Mac had been devastated when Harm's plane had gone down at sea. Afterwards, when Brumby broke the engagement and went back to Australia and Harm went to Minnesota with Renee for her father's funeral, Mac had been hurting badly. AJ wasn't sure which man's actions hurt her the most.

When Harm came back to active duty, AJ had watched and waited, convinced that the two former partners would become closer. It hadn't happened, but from what the Admiral observed, it wasn't for lack of effort by the Commander. Colonel MacKenzie was a stubborn Marine who, for reasons known only by her, had chosen to withdraw even her friendship from Harm.

The past months had been rough. With sadness, the Admiral had watched the Commander's energy and dedication slowly decline. Oh, he was still one of the finest lawyers he had ever worked with. But the fire was gone. Many military officers were single or had marriages that didn't last. It was a hazard of military life. Still, AJ had seen situations where the love of a life partner had made all the difference in an officer's career success. Unfortunately, he had also seen the other situation where losing that one important person's love could destroy an officer. Regretfully, that seemed to be the case with Commander Rabb. AJ watched, for once helpless to stop the erosion but not giving up hope of finding a way to help Harm refocus himself. AJ had been exploring the possibility of other duty assignments away from JAG headquarters. As much as he would be missed, AJ believed it might be better for Harm to cut the tie completely .. to forget Mac and move on with his life.

Webb's assignment was not exactly what the Admiral was looking for. All of the risks were just as he had enumerated them to Harm. But it would certainly force him to refocus, at least for awhile. Even in the best case scenario, AJ would suggest that Harm transfer to another duty station where he could make a fresh start and rebuild his reputation. AJ sighed. There just didn't seem to be an upside to this whole situation. The weight of command sat heavily on his shoulders this day.

_DC Police Headquarters  
__0850 EST_

Bud had arrived at the police station at 0745 to arrange for Harm's release from jail and transfer to his custody. There were repeated delays in seeing the right people and then there was paperwork to complete. Finally, as Bud signed the last of the forms, he saw Commander Rabb being escorted to him. Nervously, Bud began, "Sir, the transfer forms have been taken care of .."

With a weak smile, Harm placed a grateful hand on Bud's shoulder and said softly, "Let's get out of here."

As they walked toward the car, Bud glanced at Harm several times. Bud had never seen the Commander look this bad, even after nearly dying in the Atlantic a couple of years ago. His uniform was wrinkled .. obviously he had slept in it ... well, by the look of him, he hadn't actually slept. His eyes were red and puffy. The dark circles under his eyes and the day's growth of his dark beard gave him an almost sinister look. But mostly, he looked defeated. If the charges were true, it would be the end of his Navy career. Bud knew how much the Navy meant to Harm.

Bud still believed there had been some mistake. The Commander just wouldn't make the mistake of using drugs, knowing what it would cost him. Bud sighed. Now that he thought about it, he realized that the Commander hadn't been quite himself for awhile .. actually since he and the Colonel stopped being friends. But Bud was shocked at the current situation. He hadn't expected anything like this.

"Sir, the Admiral said you were on administrative leave. You should go home and get some rest .." Bud began tentatively.

"Bud, I need to go home and get cleaned up. But I want to talk about my case, too." Harm ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "I really screwed up this time. I just hope you can keep me out of Leavenworth."

"You mean it's true?" Bud was shocked. "I was sure it was a mistake .. some misunderstanding .."

"No mistake, Bud. It was my coke." He couldn't quite meet Bud's eyes, afraid of the disappointment and condemnation he would see there.

Bud started the car and they drove in silence to Harm's apartment. When they arrived, Harm opened the car door but hesitated. "Bud, I won't be able to sleep until this is resolved. Please, come on up with me. I'll grab a quick shower and we can talk a bit. My car was impounded so after we work out a strategy, maybe you can give me a lift to the office to talk to the Admiral."

"Sure, Commander. Good idea." Bud tried to sound enthusiastic as he followed Harm into his apartment building.

A short while later, Harm, shaved, showered and in a fresh uniform, sat down across from Bud to discuss his case. "Sir, while you were in the shower, Harriet called me on my cell phone. ZNN is carrying a news report of your arrest for drug possession and including highlights of your career ... I'm sorry, Commander."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Lieutenant. You didn't put that coke in my car. It was my own doing and I'll have to pay the price." Harm knew that Webb had made sure that a certain ZNN reporter would write a high profile story emphasizing Harm's illustrious Navy career to demonstrate how far he had fallen. Even his friends would believe it and it hurt. He hoped this operation would be successful so that all this was worth it.

"The Admiral is prosecuting and the SecNav wants quick resolution and no perception of a cover-up." Bud hesitated, hating to say the obvious. "Sir, you know if convicted, you'll receive a dishonorable discharge, minimum."

"No …" Even though Harm knew this was the plan, he couldn't help his protest.

With a determination that surprised both of them, Bud continued, "You admitted to me it was your coke. Sir, we have no defense to the charges. We could only hope to limit your punishment because of your past accomplishments. And, while you earned two DFCs, your record isn't unblemished. If we make that argument, the prosecution can counter with those less favorable incidents. I've seen you succeed with the strategy of using a defendant's outstanding career to mitigate punishment, but let's face it, I don't have your eloquence in a court room."

Harm smiled as he said, "Don't sell yourself short, Bud. You have your own very persuasive style in court. But you're right. My record won't help us all that much in my defense." He paused and dropped his head in this hands. In a minute, his voice slightly muffled because his hands still covered his face, he continued. "Dishonorable discharge, loss of all benefits, no confinement." He looked up. "Do you think you can get me that deal?"

"If that's what you want, sir."

"Obviously, it's not what I want, Bud, but it's all I can hope for. Let's go see the Admiral."

_JAG HQ  
__Wednesday  
__1330 EST_

Bud had called the Admiral and they were expected. As Harm and Bud crossed the bullpen, Harm felt all eyes on him. From one of televisions he heard his name. Glancing toward the screen, he saw his service picture and heard the reporter talking about the other incidents that put him into the news. He blocked out the voice and continued toward the Admiral's office. Tiner came to attention and sent them in immediately.

The two officers came to attention in front of Admiral Chegwidden's desk. "At ease, gentlemen." They had not been told to sit down so they both stood at parade rest, staring across the room above the Admiral's head. AJ leaned back in his chair and observed both men. Roberts looked stressed and upset. Rabb looked tired and defeated. The longer this assignment went on, the more he hated it. Webb would pay if things went badly for Rabb, AJ vowed to himself. He hated that disillusioned look in Bud's eyes, too, and wished he could tell him the truth. Not now .. too risky. "You wanted to see me, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir. .. Sir, this case is receiving news coverage that does not reflect favorably on the Navy and its officers. It would be in the Navy's best interest to dispose of it without a court martial."

"What are you offering?"

"The Commander will resign his commission. No loss of benefits and no confinement."

The Admiral snorted. "Get real, Lieutenant. From the police report, there's not much doubt that the Commander is guilty. I can get a dishonorable discharge, forfeiture of all pay and benefits and five years at Leavenworth, minimum, in a court martial conviction."

"But, sir, does the Navy really want a fully publicized court martial of one of its officers, particularly one of the Judge Advocate General's top litigators?" Bud hesitated a few seconds as though considering his next offer. In actuality, he had worked out his entire strategy prior to entering the Admiral's office. All of the lawyers present knew the negotiating drill. But they had to go through the steps. "Dishonorable discharge, forfeiture of all pay and benefits, no confinement. Commander Rabb will be discharged immediately and the matter will be done by the end of the week."

The Admiral hesitated only briefly. "Subject to approval of the SecNav, it's a deal." For the first time AJ looked directly at Harm. "Commander, is this agreement acceptable to you?"

Not meeting the Admiral's eyes, Harm answered regretfully, "Yes, sir."

"All right then." The Admiral sighed. Before dismissing them, AJ needed to say something. He hated this but it was a show for Lieutenant Roberts. "Commander, I had hoped that when you left my command it would be because of career advancement. While your methods on occasion have been unconventional, you are one of the finest lawyers I've known. I am extremely disappointed that you have chosen to throw everything away for a few ounces of white powder. Dismissed."

Harm and Bud exited the Admiral's office. Bud hovered uncertainly while Harm went straight into his office and shut the door. A minute later the Admiral walked to the edge of the bullpen. Observing most of the staff standing around looking toward Commander Rabb's office or talking softly among themselves, he raised his voice to command level, "Back to work, people."

As the staff hastened back to their jobs, the elevator opened and two MPs walked into the bullpen. As they hesitated, the Admiral moved forward to meet them. It was standard practice that, once an officer is dishonorably discharged, he or she is immediately escorted from the premises and all passes and identifications repossessed. If this had been an actual discharge, the Admiral should not have allowed Rabb back into his office for fear of what a revengeful person could do to the computer files. AJ hoped the breach in procedure would not be noticed.

He knocked on Harm's door and opened it without waiting for a reply. Harm was sitting at his desk lost in thought. "Time to go, Mr. Rabb," the Admiral said sternly and stepped back so Harm could see the MPs. "You know the procedure. I'll have Lt. Roberts send you your personal items."

Harm had been staring into space, trying to get his mind to catch up with the whirl wind of events. When the Admiral opened his door and he saw the MPs, it was with a start that he remembered the required procedure. One more humiliation to endure. Harm stood and walked around his desk. He came to attention before the Admiral one last time. After the Admiral nodded an acknowledgement, Harm walked straight to the elevator, head high, never looking back, flanked by the two MPs.

Mac had seen the MPs come in and stepped to the door of her office to watch. She saw Harm's final look at the Admiral and his proud exit from JAG headquarters, though he left in disgrace. Watching him leave like this was a knife in her heart. She blinked quickly to stop the moisture in her eyes from turning into tears. This had to be tearing Harm up inside, and while she longed to go to him and comfort him, she no longer had a right to do so.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 3**

_Harm's Apartment  
__North of Union Station  
__Wednesday, 1950 EST_

Harm had put the next step of the plan into motion. Tomorrow he was booked on a flight to Texas. His cover story involved Ezekiel "Zeke" Desmond whom he had met in flight school. They weren't close friends and hadn't served together after graduation. A couple of years after Harm's ramp strike, he had heard that Zeke was suspected of drug use. The test was inconclusive, but Zeke had left the Navy. He returned to his native Texas and started a small air service, carrying freight and occasional passengers to remote areas not served by the larger carriers. His freight service occasionally included illegal flights into Mexico to smuggle various types of contraband back and forth across the border.

When his activities came to the attention of the DEA, the agency decided to try to bring him in as a source rather than shut him down. The connection had been a success. Zeke gave the DEA just enough tips so the criminals didn't know who was leaking information, and Zeke was able to recapture some of his self-esteem lost when he screwed up his career as a Naval aviator.

The DEA had worked with Zeke to enhance the story of his past friendship with Harm, in case anyone questioned it. Given this past friendship and the similar circumstances for discharge from the Navy, it would be natural for Harm to seek out his old friend. A dishonorable discharge would preclude Harm from working for any of the larger airlines, but not from flying for his friend's small privately owned operation. It would also put Harm in close proximity to members of the drug cartel that the CIA was after.

Harm had made all the arrangements to close down his apartment indefinitely. His bags were packed and sat by the door, ready for the morning's departure for the airport. This evening, he was doing something he hadn't done for a long time .. drinking alone. There had been a time after his ramp strike when alcohol had threatened to become too big a part of his life. Luckily he recognized the danger signs and backed away. It was one of the reasons he had admired Mac so much .. that she was an alcoholic who was able to conquer the demon. His indulgences were never an addiction, but he had come close enough to understand the allure that drugs or alcohol could have. This latest indulgence would be just for this one evening. Just a few drinks. No getting blindly drunk or tomorrow's flight would be torture with a hangover. As he sat savoring the aged whisky and running through the next steps of the plan in his mind, he was surprised by someone knocking on his door.

It was likely to be someone from the office and he didn't want to see Bud or Sturgis. The knocking continued. He had better check .. it could be Clay about the case. As he stood up, the room shifted slightly. Ok, enough for tonight! He waited a few seconds for the dizziness to pass. When the knocking was repeated once again, he shouted impatiently, "OK, OK, I'm coming."

He pulled the door open and was astounded to find Mac standing there. She looked angry. Now what the hell did she want? Rather than exercise control to cover up his slightly inebriated state, he exaggerated it by leaning against the door frame and slurring his words. "Well, well, well, Colonel MacKenzie," he said sarcastically. "It's been a long, long time since your beauty has graced my doorway." Between the alcohol and no longer being bound by the UCMJ rules, he found he could say things he never dared to before. He swept his arm toward the apartment, inviting her to enter. "Come in and meet my friend, Jack Daniels." He knew that was a hurtful remark because of Mac's alcoholism, and he would never have said it under normal circumstances. Tonight, though, he had to make her so angry and disgusted with him, that she would leave and stay away. If she got it in her Marine head that he needed her help, she could blow the mission and put them both in danger.

Mac walked into the apartment and, instead of the disgust he had hoped for, her anger melted and she looked sad and regretful. "Harm, what's going on?"

He closed the door and leaned against it as though needing it for support. For good measure, he added, "I might even be able to find enough in my stash for a line of coke for each of us." This time he saw her flinch.

"Harm, don't do this to yourself. I've been there. I know it's not a place you want to go."

Suddenly he was angry .. really angry. "Don't you dare come here to pity me! I screwed up and I'll have to live with the consequences. It's not the first time and it probably won't be the last. I'll get through it. Life goes on .. not the way we hope, but it goes on."

He turned away from her and picked up his glass of whisky. Lifting his glass as if to toast her, he continued, "Here's to you, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, United States Marine. Tough, self-sufficient, the ice-maiden. You just grind up men that get in your path, don't you?" God, maybe he was more drunk than he thought to be saying these awful things to her. "I told Sturgis once that every man who has ever been involved with you was either dead or felt like they were. I've been trying to kill the pain of my encounter with you for months. Funny how alcohol and a few lines of coke only dull the edge but never make it go away." 'Stop it, Rabb! You're overplaying it. You don't need to hurt her like this to get her to leave you alone.'

He turned on her, the intensity of his eyes and threatening body language beginning to scare her. "Drink with me or get out. You have no right to come here and judge me!" he yelled.

With a gasp, Mac turned, jerked open the door and fled. As she ran down the hall, she heard glass shatter as Harm furiously threw his glass against the wall.

She reached her car and got inside. She was shaking so badly that she couldn't drive. 'All right, calm down. You shouldn't have come here.' She replayed the scene in her mind. Harm was completely out of control. A year ago she had accused him of never being able to let go. She had wanted him to lose control just enough to tell her how he felt about her. Later, after he nearly died, he clearly wanted to take that next step, but she was too afraid of getting hurt again. Harm was someone who could hurt her worse than any other man she had known if things went wrong. She hadn't had the courage to take the risk. By the time she wondered if she had made a disastrous mistake, Harm had withdrawn so far that she didn't think she could reach him. And now this …

She wanted to forget it .. forget Harm. He was out of her life now. She need never see him again. Isn't that what she wanted? Harm had certainly made it clear that he didn't want to see her ever again. God, she hadn't realized that she had hurt him so badly. While she knew Harm was responsible for his own mistakes, she felt a measure of responsibility for his downfall. There was a time when they had always been there for each other. But she had felt so betrayed when, after Mic left refusing to talk to her, she had gone to Harm .. at his request .. and found Renee there. Later she understood that Harm had acted exactly the way she would expect him to .. standing beside Renee after her father's death. He had acted honorably and at the time she had hated him for it. But he was an honorable man, that's one of the reasons why she loved him so much. How could she expect him to act any other way?

But he wasn't there for her when she needed him so badly .. when all the questions about her canceled wedding kept on and on .. and she had run away. And he'd followed her, only to have her freeze him out. He'd tried so many times to have the talk they had promised each other, but she had always avoided it. Until he stopped trying. When had that happened? About the time he started drinking and using drugs? Oh, God! She was responsible!

The tears that had threatened ever since she heard about his arrest overflowed .. slowly, silently the tears ran down her cheeks. Much as she wanted to, she wouldn't indulge in a good cry. Her mind was racing. Was there anything she could do to make things right between her and Harm at this late date? It registered in the back of her mind that his bags sat just inside his apartment door. He was leaving! But where was he going? She couldn't just let him disappear from her life. She had loved him too long and made too many mistakes. She was a Marine .. she wouldn't give up … there had to be a way to salvage the situation. He was too hurt and angry for her to approach him again now, but she couldn't lose track of him.

There was one person who could follow his movements and let her know what he was doing. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. On the second ring, he answered. "Clay, I need to see you."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 4**

_Harm's Apartment  
__North of Union Station  
__Thursday, 0700 EST_

Harm woke on the couch, his stomach queasy, his head pounding and a taste in his mouth that he hadn't experienced in a long, long time. After the hurtful scene with Mac last night, he had really gotten drunk. Well, if all those bridges weren't already in flames, they were now. He forced himself into the bathroom, stripped his clothes off and stood under the shower, hoping the steaming water would carry away the after affects of the alcohol and the pain of hurting Mac. It would take more than a hot shower to do either, but he did feel slightly better as he dried himself. His flight was at noon, but there was no reason to stay at his apartment. He dressed in clothes he'd left out when he packed yesterday afternoon. After calling a taxi, he took one last look around his apartment to be sure there wasn't anything else he had to take care of. In his bedroom, he pulled the closet doors open. All his uniforms .. white for summer and blue for winter .. hung neatly. He wondered whether he would ever have the right to wear them again.

As he walked past his desk, he remembered something he'd found last evening while sorting out his papers. Opening one of the small drawers, he lifted out a picture. It was a snapshot of him and Mac with baby AJ at his christening. With the picture in his hand, he slipped on his flight jacket and tucked the picture into an inside pocket. She might hate him but she couldn't prevent him from carrying her picture. He suddenly felt an overpowering need to have some small part of her with him on the next dangerous phase of the mission.

_South Texas  
__Thursday  
__1600 CST_

Harm pulled his dusty rental car to a stop in front of a door marked "office" at the small airfield in southern Texas. He'd called Zeke when he arrived in Texas to get exact driving directions to the airfield.

The door to the office was unlocked but no one was there. Following his instincts, Harm walked through the connecting door into the hangar. Two men were working on the engine of a small cargo plane. Harm recognized Zeke even after more than 15 years. He hadn't changed much. He was slender but wiry .. he moved with the grace of a cat. Dark hair and twinkling brown eyes in a handsome tanned face made him a hit with women, Harm remembered. Zeke saw him and called out, "Hey, Harm, buddy. Welcome!" Gracefully alighting from the ladder he had been using to reach the engine, he loped over to pull Harm in a welcoming hug.

Harm knew this show was for the benefit of Zeke's mechanic and responded in kind. "Zeke, long time. How you been?"

"Can't complain .. can't complain. Hey, Stan." Zeke turned toward the other man working on the engine. "Stan, meet Harmon Rabb. I told Stan you were coming. This is Stanley Grainger, my ace mechanic and occasional pilot. He likes his planes on the ground better than in the air, though, so I do most of the flying. That's why I can really use another pilot. You up for it?"

"That's why I'm here. It's not like I'm going to get any offers from the big carriers." Harm joked back.

"I told Stan about your recent trouble with the Navy. Hope you don't mind. We've both been there so no one's making judgments here."

"I don't particularly want to advertise my stupidity, but if we're all going to be working together, I guess Stan has a right to know."

"Let's the three of us get some supper and I'll explain the set up here." Zeke said as he led Harm toward the office. "I called around in town and found you an efficiency apartment at the Tumbleweed Inn. It's cheap .. nothing's very expensive down here compared to DC, I guess .. they serve a good breakfast in the dining room for a little extra rent, if you want it. They said you wouldn't have to sign a lease until you knew whether you'd be staying."

"Thanks, that sounds great."

_South Texas  
__Friday  
__0900 CST_

Harm had found the furnished efficiency apartment at the Tumbleweed Inn comfortable and the owner/manager, Shirley Smith, a friendly, motherly woman. After a wonderful home-cooked breakfast .. Harm even ate a slice of bacon so as not to hurt Shirley's feelings .. Harm and Zeke were at the air field reviewing future flights. Last night Stan, Harm and Zeke had had a pleasant supper and talked about business, as well as other things. They had all hit it off remarkably well. Stan's story was similar to Zeke's and Harm's. He had been in the Navy and gotten discharged for suspected drug use. He didn't have a drug problem .. never had .. just youthful stupidity.

Zeke told Harm they would drive over to a nearby town today to pick up a shipment. This was a rural area and Zeke also ran a small ground transportation business. Now they were driving north on a hard surfaced state road. Zeke unexpectedly slowed down and turned off on a dirt trail. The truck bounced over ruts left during a rare wet spell and finally pulled up beside several large boulders so big that the truck was hidden from view in most directions. Zeke put his finger to his lips and silently got out of the truck, motioning Harm to follow.

Zeke walked around one of the boulders and found a spot where the wind was blowing especially hard through a kind of wind tunnel created by the valley and the rocks. "It should be safe to talk here," Zeke explained. "This wind interferes with most long-distance listening devices. I can never be too careful in trucks, planes, or any buildings. Maybe I'm paranoid, but so are these drug lords, and they could easily bug my locations if they suspected anything."

He perched himself on a rock and Harm did likewise. "Stan knows about our occasional illegal deliveries across the border and he's OK with them. He doesn't know about my other … affiliation, though, so we have to be careful what we say around him. He seems like an okay guy and I've known him quite awhile. I just don't entirely trust him is all." Zeke explained.

"What I needed to talk to you about is that yesterday after I got your call that you were coming for sure, I had a chance to talk to my contact in the cartel. Asked him what they were going to do about pilots after losing two. He said they were looking for a couple of replacements .. asked if I was interested. I said no, I was doing fine with my own business and helping them out occasionally .. but I had just gotten a call from a buddy who got booted out of the Navy and was coming down to see me. I said you might be interested. He asked who and I told him. The guy on the news .. pilot turned lawyer, he asked. I said yeah. He seemed real interested. So either they buy your story and you'll get a contact soon or they think you're a plant and they try to kill you .. maybe both of us. It's a risk."

"I knew this was a dangerous assignment when I accepted it. But what about you? This could put your life at risk."

"Harm, we both flew Tomcats. It's the danger and being good enough to overcome it that's half the fun. I don't have any family .. there's no one I have to worry about if I buy the farm so I'm in this all the way. How about you? Wife? Girlfriend?"

"No one except my mother and step father, and a half-brother. My dad went MIA in 1969 and I wouldn't like my mother to have to go through losing a son. But none of them depend on me .. they all have their own lives .. so the risks I take are my own."

"OK." Zeke stood up. "Let's continue with the freight run."

_JAG HQ  
__Friday  
__1320 EST_

Mac sat at her desk deep in thought, and not about the file open in front of her. She had called Clayton Webb Wednesday night after that awful scene at Harm's apartment, but he said he was out of town and would be gone for awhile. He couldn't tell her where .. classified. She didn't want to get into her request concerning Harm over a cell phone so she asked him to call her on a secure line the next day at work. She hadn't heard from him, either Thursday or Friday. Had he gotten caught up in something or was he avoiding her? Something in her gut told her there was some connection between Harm's recent trouble and Webb. That was ridiculous, of course. Why would the CIA be involved in Harm's drug possession charge? Unless ….

It suddenly hit her. As far apart as she and Harm had gotten in the last few months, she just couldn't believe his basic honesty and integrity had changed. True, if he really was using cocaine, his values could be compromised. But she had always had a special sense when it came to Harmon Rabb. She told him once that she always knew where he was. That wasn't quite true any more, though she did feel a certainty that he was now far away from DC.

What if … she had to think it through … what if Webb had gotten him involved in some undercover mission? What better cover than to be himself .. Navy hero now disgraced and dishonorably discharged for drug possession? And what if his treatment of her on Wednesday evening .. the awful, hurtful things he said … were done only to keep her away from him .. to protect her and so she wouldn't inadvertently jeopardize the mission? And if her guesses were right, who knew about it? The Admiral had to know. After all, he prosecuted and made the deal so that Harm would be dishonorably discharged but with no confinement. He couldn't have carried out his mission if he had ended up in Leavenworth.

All right .. just stop and think, MacKenzie. Is this just wishful thinking on your part? That Harm hasn't really been drummed out of the Navy in disgrace and he didn't mean all those hurtful things he said to you? How could she find out for sure? She couldn't confront the Admiral. She had to see Webb.

Once again she dialed Clay's cell phone. When he answered, she tried to sound casual, "Clay, did you forget to call me back?"

There was a two second pause before Webb answered, "Mac. Sorry. I got involved in something and couldn't get to a secure line."

The pause told her a lot. So did his claim not to be able to get to a secure line. Just how dumb did he think she was .. he's always able to find a secure line .. that's the business he's in.

"Listen, Mac, I really can't talk now but I'll call you tomorrow. I promise." Clay continued.

Mac was finished playing games. In her best no-nonsense voice, she said, "Webb, you'll call me within the hour. Don't try to con me. I know just enough about your current operation to be dangerous. If you don't want me stumbling into something, call me back!" and she cut the connection before he had a chance to respond. 'Okay, let's see how worried Webb is by my threat,' she thought.

Fourteen minutes and 28 seconds later her phone rang. The caller ID said "secure call." 'Looks like Clay is a little worried.' Mac thought as she picked up the phone.

Almost before she finished identifying herself, Webb was talking. "Mac, just what do you think you know?"

"I know you've gotten Harm involved in some kind of undercover operation." Always sound like you know more than you do, she had learned long ago, when dealing with the CIA.

Again there was a few seconds of silence. "Who have you been talking to?"

'Well, well, my instincts where Harm is concerned aren't so rusty,' she thought with satisfaction. "Where are you, Clay?"

Cautiously he answered, "Texas."

"Is that where Harm is?"

"How do you know he's not in DC?"

"I just know. Now tell me what's going on?"

"Mac, this is strictly a need to know basis, and you don't need to know."

"Think again, Clay. My sources tell me that Harm's in danger. That means I have a need to know."

"What sources? … oh, never mind. The Admiral can fill you in. In fact, there might be a role for you here, too, if he agrees. I'll contact you in a few hours." And with that the connection was broken.

So she was right. The Admiral did know what was going on.

She walked out of her office and stood in front of Tiner's desk. "I need to see the Admiral."

"He's .. he's on the phone," Tiner said nervously.

"He won't be long," Mac said firmly.

As she predicted, the call ended less than a minute later. Tiner looked surprised and impressed with the accuracy of Mac's prediction. Before Tiner could pick up the phone to ask the Admiral whether he could see Mac, the intercom buzzed. "Yes, sir."

"Tiner, if Colonel MacKenzie is out there, send her in." The Admiral's order surprised Tiner even more. Was everyone developing ESP, he wondered.

Mac knocked on the Admiral's door and entered at his command. She came to attention and waited for him to acknowledge her. AJ took a few seconds to assess Mac's composure. Webb said she knew something of what Harm was involved in and was insisting on being let in on the operation. Webb implied that Mac had been upset and worried about her former partner. Right now, though, she was the picture of stoic Marine determination. She didn't appear upset, but she had always been a master at hiding her emotions.

"Webb tells me you have learned something of what's happening with Mr. Rabb and want to be brought in on the operation." He paused for her response.

"Yes, sir."

"At ease, Colonel. Have a seat." As Mac sat in front of the Admiral's desk, he continued. "This is Webb's operation and I didn't like it from the start. However, it was voluntary and I allowed Commander Rabb to make the choice. He took the assignment, even after my efforts to discourage him. … Just how much do you know … and how did you find out?"

Mac toyed with trying to bluff, but she had learned that no one could tell Admiral Chegwidden anything but the truth .. he always knew when someone was not being entirely honest. "Truthfully, Admiral, I don't know much." Mac paused but rushed on when it appeared that the Admiral might shut her down. "But I know three things: Harm would never jeopardize his Navy career for drugs; he's in Texas on some kind of undercover assignment for the CIA; and he's in a great deal of danger. I'll admit I may have led Clay to think I know more than I do, but I've got a really bad feeling about this and I need to be brought in on it."

To Mac's surprise, the Admiral answered, "I agree that you need to be brought in. I would feel a whole lot better if you were there to watch the Commander's back. Webb will be calling you with details in a couple of hours when he's got it set up, but he wants to insert you into the operation. Here's what's happening.

"The DEA and CIA, along with other government agencies, have been working together to bring down a drug trafficking cartel that operates all the way from South America to Texas. They have the cooperation of the governments of Mexico and several South American countries. Our government had gotten two agents inside the cartel. One was a pilot. A few days ago, there was a plane crash and two pilots were killed, including our agent. The cartel is out recruiting new pilots."

"And that's where the Commander fits in. Recently dishonorably discharged and disillusioned with the Navy. Ripe for recruitment into the cartel, particularly since he had been using their product." Mac ventured.

"Exactly. A flight school acquaintance of Rabb's runs a small air freight service in southern Texas. He's been known to make some illegal trips across the border, transporting merchandise both ways. Rather than arrest him, the DEA recruited him. As a cover, his acquaintance with Rabb has been turned into a close friendship. Name's Ezekiel Desmond, usually known as Zeke. He has a mechanic named Stanley Grainger, who doesn't mind the illegal activities, but doesn't know about Zeke working with the DEA. Both Desmond and Grainger are former Navy, forced to resign because of suspected drug use. Webb says they're not part of the cartel but do have contacts in the organization. It's the connection to get Rabb inside.

"Webb and several other agents are in the area, monitoring the situation, but they dare not be seen. If the cartel suspects anything, Stan, Zeke and Harm all could be killed."

"So I could be in a role that would allow better communication of Harm's situation and what he finds out in the cartel?"

"Something like that, I expect. Webb hadn't had much time to think about it when he called me." The Admiral paused when the intercom buzzed. "No calls, Tiner."

Before the Admiral released the com switch, Tiner said quickly, "Sir, it's Mr. Webb. He was insistent …"

"Thanks, Tiner." AJ hit the hands free button. "Webb, that was fast."

"Admiral, things are moving quickly so here's what I've got. Is Colonel MacKenzie with you?"

"She's here and you're on speaker."

"Okay. Mac, you're going to be Sarah Desmond, sister to Zeke. You've been living elsewhere and have come to visit your brother. You and Harm know each other through Zeke, and once were … close. You'll need to play the ex-girlfriend trying to rekindle a romance as the reason you're sticking close to Harm. We'll have your full cover and background ready by the time you get here. I'll get word to Harm and Zeke that you're coming so they'll be ready to play the part. Any questions?"

"Sounds like it could work. I'll call you when I know what flight I'm on."

AJ couldn't resist a last word, "Webb, take care of my people. You won't want to come back to Washington if this mission goes badly for them." And he broke the connection without allowing Clay to answer.

"You okay with this, Colonel?"

"Yes, sir. Commander Rabb and I have been in dangerous situations before and have always been fine, as long as we're together." A slight flush crept up Mac's face as she realized that her comment hadn't come out quite the way she intended. Nevertheless, her expression remained impassive.

"All right. Good luck. Dismissed."

TTTTTTTTTT

Back in her office, Mac made her own flight reservation. It was safer that no one knew exactly where she was going. Minutes later she breezed past the receptionist, saying vaguely that she had an assignment out of town and the Admiral knew where to reach her. After stopping at her apartment to change out of uniform and throw clothes in a carry-on bag, she drove to the airport. She had managed to get an early flight and within two hours of her first conversation with Webb, she was on a plane taking off for Texas.

The flight gave her some time to think. It would be fun to be on an assignment with Harm again. It had been a long time. Oh, she knew it was a dangerous mission, but danger had always been part of the lure of military life for both her and Harm. He had tried so hard to get rid of her a few days ago that he would probably not be happy to hear she was coming. Too bad. This was a mission and they both had to play their parts flawlessly if they wanted to get out alive. She grinned. It could be fun playing Harm's girlfriend. She wondered just how much they would get into the part.

TTTTTTTTTT

Webb was waiting for her when she deplaned. In the parking ramp, in Webb's nondescript car, he briefed her further. He laid out her background cover .. nothing too complex so she could remember it easily since there was no time for her to memorize lots of details. He handed her a small pistol for her purse or that could fit into her waistband at her back. He also gave her a knife and sheath designed to be strapped to her leg. Next he gave her a small device for detecting surveillance bugs, but cautioned her not to remove the bugs since that would give away the fact that she knew about them. Finally, he pulled out a ring case and opened it. Inside was an antique silver ring with a jade stone. "Wear this at all times. It has a water proof transmitter so we can track your movements."

Webb showed her a picture. "Your brother, Zeke. Luckily you really do look like brother and sister. He's been told that he's going to get a visit from his sister Sarah and that she and Harm have a history. We didn't have time for much more and we couldn't get to Harm directly. Zeke will tell him. He'll figure it out when he sees you. Tell Harm you want to stay where he's staying. It's the Tumbleweed Inn and we know there are rooms available.

"One more thing, be very careful what you say .. always stay in character. We know that the cartel is extremely cautious. It could have bugged vehicles and buildings at Zeke's place. Your room at the Inn will probably be alright, but check it. Assume everything else is bugged. Zeke has been making occasional deliveries for them for awhile and they might have done it just as a precaution. Any questions?"

"How do I reach you if I need to?"

Webb gave her a slip of paper. "You know my cell number. Here's another number that will get you to an agent. Memorize it and destroy the paper. We'll be around and we've got Mexican connections if you cross the border. Remember, we can track your movements and the Academy ring Harm is wearing also has a transmitter. Good luck, Mac."

Mac picked up her rental car and with directions that Webb had given her, set out to see her 'brother.'

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 5**

Two hours later, Mac pulled up on front of the combination office and hangar at the small air field. As she stepped out of the car, a man she recognized as Zeke came out of the office. "Hey, Sarah," he exclaimed excitedly, and rushed forward to give her a strong, brotherly hug. "It's great to see you."

"Zeke, you look good. How're things?"

"Oh, you know. I'm getting by. Hey, you'll never guess who showed up a few days ago .. Harmon Rabb. Got himself into a little trouble with the Navy and he's going to work with me now. Thought you'd be glad to see him," he finished with a sly grin.

Mac smiled a secret smile and said softly, "Yeah, I'd love to see Harm again."

Zeke wondered briefly what kind of relationship this woman really had with Harm. Either there was something there or she was one great actress. "Come on in."

They walked through the office and out into the hangar. A man in coveralls was making adjustments on the engine of the plane. A tall figure with a preflight clipboard in his hand stood at the far side of the hangar.

"Harm," Zeke called. "Sarah's here."

Harm hadn't liked this new arrangement one bit when Zeke told him about it. First of all, he was worried about putting Mac in danger. He also wondered how well they would work together after so much tension between them. He wished it could be like it had been for their first two years as partners. They had been really good together; almost reading each other's minds; anticipating the other's actions. But now … oh, well, show time …

Putting the clip board aside, he quickly walked toward Mac with a welcoming smile. "Zeke told me you were coming for a visit. It's great to see you, Sarah!"

Mac stepped forward to meet Harm and said softly, "Hey, Stickboy." By using a nickname she had tagged him with early in their partnership, she hoped he would understand that they needed to forget recent differences. To emphasize the role they would play, she moved close to him, draped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head down for a warm kiss.

With no more than an instant of shock, Harm recovered and drew her close. The memory of a forbidden kiss on the Admiral's porch flashed into his mind. This kiss wasn't forbidden, however, and he intended to make the most of it. Her lips were soft and welcoming and tasted wonderful. He moved his lips against hers, softly, sensually, and ran the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip as he drew away. Both were slightly breathless and Mac had a dazed look in her eyes. Keeping one arm firmly around her waist, Harm stepped back to glance at Zeke and back at Mac. "Best thing I've done lately was looking up Zeke," he said.

"Much as I'd like to spend some time with my sister, it looks like you two have more catching up to do. Anyway, I've got a couple of things to take care of. Harm, why don't you take Sarah to the Inn. I'm sure they'll have a room available. I'll see you later." And with that Zeke slapped Harm on the shoulder and walked toward where Stan continued to work on the plane, ignoring the family reunion.

"Good idea. Thanks, Zeke," Harm called. With his arm still possessively around Mac, they went back through the office and out to their cars. Once out of sight of Zeke, Harm reluctantly dropped his arm and put distance between them. He wanted to go on holding her but he didn't want to deal with a pissed off Marine.

For her part, Mac was astonished at the joy she felt when Harm kissed her and how safe and loved his continued embrace made her feel. She was disappointed when he stepped away as soon as they were alone. So it was just an act. "How about leading the way to the Inn Zeke mentioned. I hope they have a room, or we'll have to share. Just like old times."

Harm grinned, almost the easy grin she hadn't seen for so long. "Just like old times." He repeated.

Mac followed Harm to the Tumbleweed Inn, parking beside him in the small gravel lot adjacent to the building. She started to pull her bag from the trunk, but Harm took it from her and led the way inside. Mac looked around the small lobby. Though a bit shabby, it felt comfortable and welcoming. Almost like home, Mac thought, though she hadn't had much experience with how a home should look. If circumstances had been different .. if she and Harm were here on a romantic vacation, it would have been heaven.

What on earth made her think that? His kiss had chipped a bit of ice off her heart, she admitted to herself, and allowed her to dream again, just a little.

With a start, she heard Harm speaking to her. "There's a room available, Sarah. Shirley just needs your credit card."

Mac suddenly realized that her credit cards wouldn't have the right name on them. Thinking quickly, she looked ashamed as she said reluctantly, "My … ah, my credit cards are sort of … maxed out. I'll get some cash for you tomorrow, if that's okay."

Harm quickly handled the situation by pulling out his wallet. "Here, Shirley. Use my card. Sarah, you can pay me back later."

Shirley handed Mac her key. "Number 27, right down the hall from Harm. I hope you'll have an enjoyable stay. I'm sure Zeke'll like seeing family."

"Thank you, Mrs. Smith. I'm looking forward to the visit," Mac answered, accepting the room key.

Harm allowed Mac to precede him down the hall to room 27. She unlocked the door and walked into the room while Harm followed with her bag. The room was warm and stuffy. Since it had been unoccupied, the air exchanger was off. Mac switched the unit on and turned back toward the room. Harm lingered uncertainly beside the bed where he had placed her bag.

Conscious of Clay's warning, she walked over to him, put her arms around Harm's neck and with her lips close to his ear, whispered, "We have to stay in character. The room could be bugged." She snuggled her face into his neck and kissed him before stepping back. It was wonderful to be able to touch him and hold him. What was she getting herself into here? It was supposed to be an act, but she knew for her it wasn't. And for once, she needed to live for the moment and to hell with the consequences.

She heard Harm's sexy chuckle. Then with his hand along her cheek, he forced her to meet his eyes. What she saw there made her tighten her grip on his arms because her knees were suddenly so weak they threatened to give way. "God, I've missed you, Sarah," he whispered before capturing her lips in a sweet and passionate kiss. It sounded like he meant it, she thought, and this kiss certainly feels real. She felt herself losing her grip on reality as her mouth opened to receive his probing tongue. When she wrapped her lips around his tongue and sucked, she heard him moan. His hand was at the back of her head so she couldn't escape .. not that she wanted to … as he moved away from her lips to kiss and lick his way along her jaw and down her neck to the spot where her pulse pounded. She wanted him so badly and she could feel that his desire was just as strong. With an enormous force of will, she whispered, "Harm … stop …"

When she had put her arms around him and said they had to stay in character, Harm felt a wave of pure pleasure wash over him. And she kissed his neck like she had a right to do that to him. Even if this was a game, he wasn't about to let this opportunity slip past him. By God, he would have some memories of Sarah MacKenzie to take with him when this mission was over. He tasted her lips and explored her mouth. As he moved down to kiss the pounding pulse on her neck, he heard her request to stop, and suddenly reality hit him like cold ocean spray. His whole body tensed and he stepped back. "I'm sorry." He said shakily.

This might be their chance, Mac realized. Maybe their last chance. If she let him think she didn't want him, they could lose it. Yet they were in the middle of a dangerous assignment that required focus and concentration. When Harm dropped his arms and stepped back, Mac felt a chill. But she didn't do anything to discourage his withdrawal. Mac watched Harm's face change as disappointment and scorn took over.

With a regretful sign, Harm said harshly, "Look, Sarah, I know we parted badly. I don't know what game you're playing by being here, but I'm not going there with you. Your brother and I are friends, I need this job, and I won't let you cause trouble. If that clear?"

After so much recent experience, Mac easily dropped into the her prickly mode. "Well, I wouldn't want to be a temptation for you!" she said sarcastically. Then she sighed and hesitantly tried again. "Harm, I know it's been over for us for a long time, but for Zeke's sake, I'd like to try to be friends again. We had some good times, you and I. And we used to be best friends.

In an effort to defuse the emotionally charged situation, Mac grinned shyly and stated, "I'm starving. Is there a good place to eat around here?"

Harm laughed in spite of himself. "Some things never change. There's a great little café two blocks down. If you want some company, we could test this friendship theory of yours."

"Give me a few minutes to freshen up. Why don't you call Zeke to join us. I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Probably a good idea. I'll see you in a few minutes." And Harm left her room.

Mac sat down on her bed and put her head in her hands. She felt like crying but was too self-disciplined to indulge herself. Her nerves felt like a rubber band strung too tightly and threatening to break. 'Come on, Marine, get a grip!' she chided herself. 'You just got here and the dangerous part hasn't started yet.' This thought brought a grimace. That kiss had been pretty dangerous to her peace of mind. It was going to be hard to forget that and focus on the assignment. Maybe she should really get into the part of Harm's ex-lover trying for a reconciliation. It was a temptation, but it would be a distraction for both of them if she succeeded and too hurtful if she failed. She had to stay cool and stay in the game for everyone's safety.

A few minutes latter, Mac walked into the lobby. Harm was waiting for her. She saw that he had changed into a blue sport shirt and black jeans. He looked good enough to eat, and she grinned at the thought. He saw the grin and wondered what she was thinking, but didn't quite feel comfortable asking. Instead he only said, "Zeke will meet us at the café. Let's go eat."

Supper was a pleasant meal. The trio talked as though they were, in fact, family. Harm told Zeke about some of his more unusual cases. When he referred to his partner, Zeke knew he meant Mac though they were careful not to reveal that in their conversation. Zeke told them about some of his adventures, though not the illegal ones.

As they finished their food, Zeke leaned across the table and said quietly, "I've been contacted. They want to see you tomorrow at 0900. I'm to take you to the meeting place."

"Where is it?" Harm asked.

"Remote cabin about 20 miles east of here."

Harm sat back and said in a normal voice, "Sarah, you've been traveling all day and I expect you're tired. If you and your brother want to stay to talk, that's fine. But if you're ready to head back to the Inn, I'll walk you back."

Mac suddenly had to stifle a very real yawn. "I guess I am ready to turn in. Sorry, Zeke. We'll have time tomorrow to catch up, okay?"

"Absolutely."

Harm let Zeke pay for supper since it was his town and his sister. Next time he'd buy. Outside the café, Zeke leaned over and kissed Mac on the cheek. "Good night, Sis. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Zeke. I'll call or stop by to see what you're doing."

Harm and Mac turned toward the Inn, and walked in slightly uncomfortable silence. Harm's thoughts were on their last meeting in DC; on the cruel things he had said to Mac in an attempt to drive her away and not interfere with his mission. Obviously he hadn't succeeded. Just before they reached the Inn, Harm decided he shouldn't delay his apology any longer. "Sarah, about the last time we saw each other…" he had to make sure that Mac understood he had not meant the things he'd said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean those things I said .."

"I know, Harm. It's okay." She looked into his eyes so he would believe her. "I now realize what caused you to do it."

When they arrived at her room, she unlocked the door and turned toward Harm. They were suddenly more awkward with each other. She could see that Harm intended to say goodnight and leave her at the door. Quickly she laid a light hand on his arm. "Harm, I'll …I'll see you tomorrow?" she said tentatively.

'I'll be around," he answered cautiously. "Good night." There was finality in his dismissal and Mac sadly opened her door and went into her room. 'It's what you wanted,' she told herself. 'It's the way it has to be for now.'

Harm entered his room, threw his keys on the dresser, and flopped down on the couch with a tired sigh. This was going to be hard, harder than working with Mac when they were friends. Then they were in synch and worked well as a team. Now they were out of step and he desperately hoped they could regain their rhythm before something critical happened on this mission. Otherwise, someone could get hurt, and he worried that it would be Mac. Why had Webb and the Admiral sent her into this dangerous assignment? Strategically, it made sense because she provided a good method of communication between Harm and Webb, but he worried about her safety. When Zeke told him that Webb was sending in another agent to back him up, his former partner, pretending to be Zeke's sister and Harm's former girlfriend, he had been angry at Webb for putting Mac in danger. He still didn't know how it had come about that Mac was here. But if they could remember how to be partners, their chances were more than doubled for getting each other safely through a dangerous assignment.

Harm decided that this mission was like so many others that Webb was involved with .. nothing ever went as planned and there was every chance some of them wouldn't make it out alive. With another tired sigh, he pulled off his jeans and shirt and flopped into bed.

_Next morning  
__0855 CST  
__East of town_

Zeke drove his Chevy four-by-four toward their meeting with the cartel. Harm appeared relaxed in the passenger seat but if Zeke had known him better, he would have realized that Harm was in full combat alertness. Tucked into the waistband of his jeans, at his back, was a small handgun that Zeke had supplied. Leaning against it during the drive was uncomfortable, but the security its presence provided more than made up for the discomfort.

The cabin appeared to be deserted as they pulled up. Both men were alert to their surroundings as they stepped out of the pickup truck and walked into the small building. The inside was also empty. Harm's unease grew. "I don't like it," he said quietly to Zeke.

As they stood undecided on their next move, they heard steps on wooden porch and two men appeared in the doorway. Both men were of Latin descent. One was nearly as tall as Harm and powerfully built. Clearly he was the muscle of the pair. The man two steps in the lead appeared quietly confident. Harm guessed he held some power in the organization. He didn't need aggressiveness or cockiness to assert his power .. he was already certain of it.

"Hello, Zeke," the lead man greeted Zeke. "And Commander Rabb, it's an honor."

Harm looked at him closely, trying to find the mockery in his tone, his expression. Instead, the man appeared to be sincere. Harm raised an eyebrow in question.

With a smile, the man offered, "I mean it. If you were hiring a pilot for your company, wouldn't you check his personnel file. I was quite impressed with yours. It's unfortunate that the Navy couldn't overlook one slip in twenty years of service. Oh, well, the Navy's loss is my gain, I guess."

He paused as if waiting for Harm to respond, but there was nothing Harm wanted to say. After a few seconds, the man continued. "Call me Charles. Zeke has helped us out from time to time. Right now we need two pilots and we'll make it worth your while. Commander, are you ready for this?"

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't," Harm responded rather abruptly.

"All right. Good. We've had to put shipments on hold because of our shortage of pilots. Each of you will fly a delivery tonight. There's a small airstrip near the Mexican border .. Zeke, you know the one. Be there at 7:00 for instructions." He pulled two envelopes from his breast pocket. "Twenty thousand for each of you now. Another twenty each when you complete the delivery. Any questions?"

Zeke glanced at Harm, then asked, "We'll be back by morning, right? I mean, I have a business to run and I wouldn't want my partner to start asking questions if I am unexpectedly absent."

"We don't want him asking questions, either. You'll be back by morning." Charles assured them.

"All right, we're done here." Charles turned toward the door. Just before stepping outside, he turned back. In the same mild, friendly tone, Charles added, "I understand your sister is here for a visit and that you're _both_ very fond of her." His expression remained unchanged, but his eyes suddenly looked as icy as the winter wind across North Dakota.

As Charles turned away, Harm took an involuntary step forward, reacting to the threat to Mac. Zeke stopped him before his movement was seen by Charles or his bodyguard.

Zeke and Harm waited until they heard a car drive away before letting out a sigh, not realizing they had hardly been breathing. As they looked at each other, silent messages were sent and understood. It was clear that Charles had spies in town. How else would he know just how close Harm and Mac were. But the good news was that Charles had believed that Mac was Zeke's sister. Zeke and Harm knew they couldn't say anything aloud on the drive back to town. It was possible that even Zeke's truck was bugged.

When they were almost back to town, Harm pulled out his cell phone and dialed Mac. She answered at once. "Hey, baby, what're you doin'?" Harm asked.

"Just exploring the town a bit. Where are you?"

"Heading back to the office. Listen, Sarah. I have to break our date for tonight. Zeke and I have a job and I can really use the money."

Mac knew they didn't have a date so she assumed this meant that Harm and Zeke had a drug run. She put a pout into her voice as she responded, "Well, if a little money is more important than the girl you haven't seen in months …"

"I'll make it up to you. I promise." Harm grinned.

"I'll see to it," Mac answered in her most provocative tone.

"Can you take time from the exciting life in town to have lunch with two men who are very fond of you?" Harm joked.

"Absolutely. At that little café we were at last night?" Mac knew she had to play the game. To anyone who didn't know Harm so well, he would have sounded just as he intended .. relaxed and flirting with a pretty woman .. but Mac could hear the underlying tension. She sensed there was something more than the drug run, though that should have been enough to bring on some tension.

After a slight pause, Mac continued. "Listen, Harm. I saw a pottery shop that I'm going to check out before lunch. I read somewhere that they have special clay in this area for pots."

"Good idea. The special clay is very important," Harm answered seriously. They both knew the reference to clay meant that Mac was going to contact Webb. Harm ended the conversation with, "See you at noon."

Mac then dialed Webb's cell number. When he answered, Mac used a loosely developed code that she and Clay had used on another case. "John, it's Sarah Desmond."

"Sarah! It's been awhile. How are you?"

"I'm fine. John, I'm in south Texas and happen to be free this evening. My boyfriend broke our date to work! Can you believe it? Anyway, you've been wanting me to come meet your wife. I know it's short notice, but how about this evening?"

"That would be great. Where are you? I'll give you directions." Webb gave directions to a nearby town where he and several agents had set up a mobile command post.

After ending the call, Mac drove to a small pottery shop she had seen earlier .. just in case she was being watched.

At noon, she walked into the café where she was to meet Zeke and Harm and saw them already seated in a booth near the door. She slipped onto the seat beside Harm and squeezed his arm affectionately. During the meal, Harm leaned close to Mac, in the appearance of intimate conversation, while conveying information about that evening's job. Zeke quietly described the location of the airfield that would be their contact point.

As the meal and their discussion neared its end, Harm leaned close to Mac. "Sarah, you have to get out of here this afternoon and go to Webb. Charles made it clear that he knows you're important to both Zeke and me and that if we don't hold up our end, you'll be in danger."

"I've already arranged to go to Webb this evening. I'll let him know he should expect me sooner."

Harm looked a bit surprised at Mac's easy agreement to leave. "I thought I'd get an argument about leaving."

"Look, I'll be of more help with Webb's people." She looked at Zeke to include him in her assurances. "His people are good and he's got the best technology." She looked at Harm. "Besides, I always know where you are," she added with a saucy smile. Then looking between Zeke and Harm, she said softly, "Please, both of you, be careful."

As Harm and Zeke walked back to their car, Zeke asked, "What did she mean, she always knows where you are?"

Harm chuckled. "It's something that developed when we worked so closely as partners. Some kind of sense that she has that helps her find me when I'm in trouble. She saved my life a couple of times with it."

_1900 CST  
__Airfield at unknown location_

Harm followed Zeke to the airfield so each would have a vehicle when they returned since it was unlikely that they would return at the same time. As they walked toward a small metal building that served as an office, Harm noticed two small twin-engine airplanes at the edge of the runway, one with several men around it. Inside the office Charles was waiting.

"Gentlemen," he greeted them. "Zeke, your plane isn't quite ready." Looking at Harm, "Rabb, you're ready to go." He walked over to a map and pointed out the route, gave Harm his heading, the altitude to minimize chances of detection, and the coordinates where he was to deliver his cargo. "We're short on pilots so neither of you will have co-pilots. They're both short flights so that shouldn't be a problem, right, gentlemen?"

Zeke and Harm knew Charles would only accept one answer, so both agreed, "no problem," "fine."

Charles escorted Harm to his plane, an older Piper Chieftain. Harm climbed into the plane. As he moved through the aisle toward the cockpit, he noticed that all seats except the two rear-facing ones directly behind the pilots had been removed. Various boxes and crates were held in place by cargo nets on both sides of the aisle. Though it appeared old and in need of some exterior work, Harm was surprised to find a modern, well-equipped cockpit with the latest navigational equipment available for a plane of that size. Harm wasn't specifically checked out on this type of plane, but there wasn't much that he couldn't fly. He quickly scanned the instrument panel, easily locating the essential controls. The flight manual and a map lay on the co-pilot's seat. Harm ran through the preflight checks and fired up the engines. Charles still stood watching. Just before Harm began taxiing, Charles gave him a slack-handed salute which Harm returned.

Harm took off into the night sky and turned south. He had been given a route that was supposed to avoid border patrols. About thirty minutes into the flight, Harm crossed the U.S.-Mexico border without incident. His destination was another hour into Mexico.

Harm was within a half hour of the designated coordinates when he felt a hiccup in one engine. A check of the instruments showed no problems. For another five minutes, the engines droned on smoothly, as Harm continued to closely watch all gauges; then he felt another hiccup, actually almost a sputter. This time he also heard a momentary drop in engine speed, and his instruments showed reduced power in the starboard engine. Harm quickly calculated his speed with one engine and determined that he could still make his destination, though he probably wouldn't be able to maintain full altitude. Then the port engine hiccupped …

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 6**

Harm was losing power on both engines. Briefly he wondered whether they had been sabotaged. That could account for the other crash, too. He didn't have much time to think about the causes; he was too busy trying to find a place to land without tearing the plane apart. It was a dark, clear night with only a small waning moon. He was pretty sure most of the land below was covered with trees.

Then just as the engines sounded like they were in their death throes, Harm saw what looked like a road. He had to chance it while he had enough power to control the plane. Pushing the wheel forward, he quickly reduced altitude and lined up to land on the road. It was a dirt road and none too straight. Harm managed to touch down and had nearly gotten the plane stopped, when the road turned sharply and Harm couldn't stop the plane from bouncing across a shallow ditch and into thick brush and scrubby trees where it quickly came to a halt.

The last few feet viciously bounced the plane, and Harm saw stars for an instant when his head made hard contact with the airframe. When the plane had come to rest, Harm breathed a sigh of relief and sat for a minute to let the tension recede. He carefully pushed his way back through the plane, managed after several minutes of struggling with the reluctant door latch to push it open, and emerged from the plane. For a better view, he paused on the top step and looked around. The plane had gone several yards into the brush and Harm doubted that it would be visible from the road, at least at night. He also wondered again about the bad luck the cartel was having with its planes.

Reaching back into the plane for a flashlight, Harm lifted the panel covering the engine. He quickly removed the fuel line and inspected an in-line filter. As he expected, it was clogged with some kind of fine fibers. Harm suspected that whatever this was had been put in the fuel tank. It was designed to slowly fill up the filter and cause engine failure during the flight. Harm suspected a rival drug organization, and if his assumption were correct, Harm could get caught between two warring drug factions. He needed to be very careful of anyone approaching the plane. He also needed to get word to the authorities that he had a plane full of what he suspected was illegal contraband to be traded for drugs. His location was being tracked using the device in his ring, but those monitoring his movement would not know that he had been forced to land short of his destination.

Harm did a quick search of the plane for emergency supplies but found very little. Most space was taken up with cargo, but he did find a flaregun with only two flares. Problem was that if he used the flares, he might not survive the rescue if the wrong people found him. Harm had taken a chance that he wouldn't be searched and had a small pistol in an ankle holster. He was glad he had taken the risk – at least he had a weapon.

Harm decided not to stay with the plane. Very soon those waiting for him would know he was overdue and probably begin searching for the plane. He was close enough to his destination that they could have heard his plane go down, which meant it might not be long until someone came looking. Better to stay out of sight until he saw who showed up.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Meanwhile, Mac was with the drug enforcement team at its mobile control center in a semi-trailer painted with the logo of a long-haul transport company. Webb, a DEA agent, and three technical specialists at separate consoles, watched various blips and dots on the screens, representing Harm, his plane and Zeke's plane. As Clay watched two dots representing Harm and his plane stop any forward movement, he shook his head. "This isn't right. We were sure the airfield he was going to is another 30 miles from this location," he said as he tapped the stationary dots on the screen.

"So what does this mean?" Mac asked anxiously.

"Either we were wrong on our location, or the plane crashed," the DEA agent, whose name was Morales, stated unfeelingly.

Mac looked at him sharply, then back at Webb. "Clay, we've got to go after him. We can't abandon him in the middle of Mexico," her voice tense.

"We can't just go charging into Mexico before we know what's happening. We don't have authority and we might endanger Harm more," Clay said defensively.

"I thought you had the cooperation of the Mexican authorities in this operation?" Mac challenged Webb.

"We do, but we can't go in until we're sure it's the best course of action."

One of the techs spoke up. "Rabb's moving."

Mac, Webb and Morales concentrated on the screen, watching the two dots that were Harm and his plane move apart – Mac wondered briefly how they had gotten a tracking device on the plane. Harm obviously was moving away from the plane, which probably meant he hadn't crashed. Still, there were several other explanations for the movement, one of which was that he was dead and his body was being moved. Mac didn't dwell on this possibility.

"Where's the satellite images of this area?" Clay asked. One of the techs pointed to a table that held several maps.

"What are you thinking?" Mac questioned.

Without answering, Clay pulled out the satellite photo he was looking for and located the coordinates where Harm and his plane appeared to be. "Just as I thought, no airfield there .. but there is a road. And it looks like it runs directly to the airfield that we thought was Harm's destination. That means it won't take long for the reception committee to reach Harm when they go looking. This looks close enough that they might have heard his plane."

"We're watching Charles Estavez, the man who hired Harm and Zeke for these shipments. If it's a go in Mexico, we'll pick him up, too, but if we tip our hand too soon with Estavez, there's a chance he could warn others," Agent Morales added.

"Contact the Mexican team and get them into position to round up everyone at both Rabb's and Desmond's locations. We have two planes full of contraband that was going to be traded for drugs, and the drugs are probably nearby." Webb ordered.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Back in the Mexican night, Harm was fighting his way through thick, spiny brush, trying to put some distance between himself and the plane. The thin moon didn't provide much light, but Harm's eyes were becoming accustomed to the dim light. Still, there were areas that were pitch black and he took a chance with every step that he wasn't walking over the edge of a cliff, into a hole, or stepping on a poisonous snake.

Before he had managed to get as far away as he would have liked, he heard an engine – it sounded like a truck coming down the road. A truck arriving this soon after his plane went down and at this time of night could only mean it was the reception committee waiting for his cargo. He just wasn't sure whether it was the intended recipients who had been waiting at the airfield, or some rival cartel trying to take over the area.

The terrain in the direction that Harm was moving rose slightly and the brush began to thin, to be replaced by taller trees. He could move faster and still have good cover. When he thought he was far enough away, he looked back, but was unable to see anything through the trees. He had heard the truck stop so he assumed the plane was visible from the road. Either that, or the plane had some type of tracking device on board. He could hear movement in the brush but it didn't sound close. Wanting to see what was happening, Harm climbed into the lower branches of a nearby tree, hoping for a better view. He found that his position above the plane's location allowed him to see lights through the trees. He could see what appeared to be headlights, and several flashlights or lanterns moving around the plane.

Suddenly a twig snapped not far from Harm's tree. He cautiously looked down as he concentrated to slow his breathing and be as quiet as possible. The sounds of movement were rapidly coming closer. As Harm watched, he caught a glimpse of eerie green light. Night vision goggles! Damn! Someone skilled in tracking could easily follow his trail of broken brush.

The man moved cautiously but quickly toward the tree where Harm perched about 12 feet above the ground. So far he hadn't looked up. Harm gathered himself, and when the man was directly below the tree, Harm dropped on top of him. The men hit the ground together as Harm landed two quick blows to the ribs. Harm's pursuer had dropped his weapon when Harm took him down, and Harm dared not use his gun because it would bring the others. Harm grabbed for the night vision goggles, but as he reached up, he felt a burning pain in his side and realized the man had a knife. Before the knife could do more damage, Harm rolled away and grabbed his opponent's wrist. With a quick twist, Harm heard the sickening snap as he broke the man's arm. As the knife fell, Harm grabbed it and quickly and quietly ended his opponent's life.

Harm's side burned and he could feel the warmth of his own blood as it seeped into his clothes. Putting on the night vision goggles, he quickly found the discarded assault rifle and slung it over his good shoulder. A quick search of the dead man produced two ammo clips. Harm used the knife to slash the dead man's shirt, then ripped off the back portion, wadded it up and pressed it against his wound. Holding the compress with his elbow, he quickly pulled off the remainder of the dead man's shirt and headed into the forest.

The night vision goggles allowed him to move much faster. He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain that pulled at his side with every step. After half an hour and no further sounds of pursuit, Harm stopped to finish his bandage. He tied the shirt sleeves together, brought them around his body, and tied the bandage snuggly to hold the compress over the wound. His head was clear and he didn't feel like he had lost too much blood. Still, he needed to make contact soon.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 7**

The group in the drug enforcement command center listened to the reports coming in. Drug enforcement teams, made up of the DEA, CIA, FBI, and Mexican law enforcement, had swept through known drug cartel locations on both sides of the border. Navy ships off the coast of Mexico in the Gulf provided a point of origin for some of the teams. Zeke Desmond had been among the men arrested at a Mexican airfield that was his destination. In order to hide Zeke's work with the DEA, he was treated like the other prisoners, but would eventually be brought back to his home in Texas. But none of the raids had found Harm…

Mac listened with growing distress, hidden behind a face of Marine control. Finally, she challenged Clay, "Webb, Harm hasn't been picked up. That's him, isn't it?" she stabbed at the dot on the screen. "Why hasn't he been brought in?"

"Mac, that's rugged country and apparently Harm doesn't want to be found. He's probably hiding from the people who he was flying for and doesn't know about our raids." At Mac's quick, angry stare, he quickly added, "We weren't sure we would go tonight. There was no way to let Harm know, even if we had been sure it was going down tonight."

"Who's going after him?" Mac asked sharply.

"The _Vicksburg_ from Mayport is off the coast. There's a helo ready to go at first light."

"Why not go now?" Mac couldn't understand why they would wait when all of the raids had been done at night.

"He's likely in rough country. When the helo finds him, in order to extract him directly, it will take lots of lights. So far, everything was done quickly and quietly. No one wants to call attention to this operation yet. If we go after Harm on foot, that's best done at first light."

"So when's first light?"

"The helo is scheduled to leave the _Vicksburg_ at 0700."

Mac quickly calculated the times involved. "I want to be on that helo." Something told her that Harm was in danger.

"Mac, we know where he is. They'll have him out in a few hours." Webb let his exasperation show in this tone.

"Clay, I just don't feel good about this. I think Harm is hurt. I always know where he is. I can find him quickly. Just get me there."

With a resigned sigh, Webb conceded, "Mac, I'll see what I can do to get you to the _Vicksburg_, but I can't promise that you'll be with the extraction team."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Clay was good to his word and soon Mac was on a helo en route for the _Vicksburg_. She had been on many helicopters in her military career but this one was new, well appointed and fast. Must belong to the CIA, she thought briefly, before dismissing the origin of the helo as other thoughts crowded in. Harm was hurt, she was sure of it. She felt an urgency to get closer to him. In one way she wanted this assignment to end to get him out of danger, yet she had enjoyed playing his girlfriend. When she got him back to Washington, they'd be colleagues again and nothing more. One more time he had been in danger, risking his life. What if one of these times he didn't come back. Mac couldn't bear thinking very long about that, but it was the nature of their lives.

As Mac's helo approached the ship, she saw another one take off and turn toward the coast. That was the extraction team, she'd wager. They had left without her. She wondered whether Webb had warned them of her plans and told them to leave before she arrived.

When Mac stepped onto the deck, a lieutenant met her to take her to the XO. The XO, Commander Hendricks, waited on the bridge for their visitor. He's heard about Lt. Colonel MacKenzie, the Marine who had led the emergency evacuation of the American Consulate in Indonesia. He'd also received a message an hour ago from a deputy director of the CIA that she was on her way to the _Vicksburg_ with the intention of joining the extraction team. The message suggested that the team depart before her arrival. Commander Hendricks had followed the suggestion, but now was curious to meet the Marine. He was surprised to see a slim, lovely brunette in jeans, a dark t-shirt, and jean jacket walk forward.

Though she was out of uniform, Mac came to attention before the XO and waited to be acknowledged. Commander Hendricks stared for a few seconds before finding the appropriate greeting. "Colonel MacKenzie? What brings you to the _Vicksburg_?"

"Was that helo on its way to make a pick up in Mexico?"

"Perhaps," the XO answered cautiously.

"I was hoping to get here in time to be on it. The man they are going to find is my partner. He may be injured."

"I understand the subject has a locator and the team will go directly to his location. They should be back in a couple of hours." Hendricks glanced down at Mac's attire. "Perhaps we can find you some khakis."

During the stressful night, she had forgotten that she was out of uniform. "My apologies for the breach of protocol, Commander. I was on an assignment that … didn't require a uniform." Mac offered vaguely. The details of the entire operation were probably still classified and might remain so.

The XO called over a female petty officer and instructed her to find Mac suitable clothing. Then he suggested he meet her in the officers mess in 15 minutes. He saw Mac's body slump slightly with fatigue and quickly added, "Coffee and some breakfast should help till the helo gets back."

Mac started to protest and then realized she was indeed hungry and coffee sounded awfully good, too. She gave the XO a weary smile. "That sounds like just what I need."

Fifteen minutes later, Mac, now dressed in reasonably fitting khakis, entered the officers mess and joined the XO already seated at a table. They talked casually about duty stations and military topics. After about fifteen minutes, the XO told Mac that he had to return to the bridge, and he'd keep her informed as he received word from the extraction team.

Mac finished a hearty breakfast and two cups of coffee that almost met her Marine standards. Feeling surprisingly refreshed, she decided to request permission to wait with the XO for updates from the mission. Going back to the bridge, she again came to attention in front of the XO. "Permission to wait on the bridge for word on the mission, sir."

Commander Hendricks was impressed by Mac's military bearing, her reputation, and surprised by her slim stature and her beauty. He smiled, "Actually, I expect the Captain on the bridge any minute. Then I'm going down to Ops to monitor the mission. You're welcome to come along. We received word about ten minutes ago that the helo is feet dry."

Mac thanked the XO and a few minutes later when the Captain took back bridge command, she followed Commander Hendricks down to the operations center. A console at one side of the room showed the familiar screen with dots representing the helo, Harm's location, and a couple of other dots, both traveling away from their area of interest.

-o-o-o-o-

Several hours before dawn, Harm had managed to get to the top of a rocky hill and find cover behind low-lying, thick brush with his back to several large rocks. He tried to stay alert – with the burning pain in his side he doubted that he would sleep – yet shortly before dawn Harm realized he had been awakened by something – he had in fact dozed off. Remaining perfectly still, he wondered what had disturbed him. Then he heard a loud screeching call nearby – some kind of bird, he thought – and realized that was what had disturbed his light sleep.

He felt terrible. Every time he moved, it was like the knife was driven into his side again. He craved water and when he put his hand to his face, he realized that he was very hot. He worried that the wound had become infected. As he struggled to keep his thoughts clear, he couldn't be sure that he was thinking straight. Since there didn't seem to be anyone looking for him, he decided to remain in his present location until dawn, then try to find water, and work out a way to make contact without meeting up with someone who would be bad for his longevity.

As he laid his head back against the rock, he remembered that the ring he wore contained a locator. It bothered him that his mind was so muddled that he had forgotten that. Now that he did remember, it gave him comfort that he would not need to work as hard to make contact – he hoped. Webb's missions didn't always go as planned and the CIA didn't subscribe to the code of never leaving a man behind. A bone-penetrating tiredness was creeping over him and he felt himself drifting off again.

The next time he woke, it was dawn. His watch showed 0730. With some difficulty, Harm managed to get to his feet. He was dizzy and weak. If he wasn't picked up soon, he would need water and food. Studying the surrounding terrain that he hadn't been able to see last night, he decided to follow the ridge he was on. The ridge ran east and west. He headed east, knowing that somewhere out there was the Gulf, though it was too far to walk in his condition. Still, it gave him an objective to focus on.

As he trudged along, stumbling often on the undergrowth, he suddenly stopped dead and listened intently. The familiar whap-whap of a helo could be heard in the distance. Now is it one of ours or one of theirs, he wondered. It seemed to be headed his way, so he slipped into the thickest cover he could find, made sure the assault rifle he had taken from his attacker last night was ready, and waited.

As the helo rose from the valley below into his line of sight, he grinned and relaxed. That was the most beautiful silver bird he had ever seen – a U. S. Navy helo coming straight at him. When it was near enough, a rope was dropped and a Marine slid quickly to the ground. As he reached Harm, he greeted him, "Commander Rabb, I presume."

"Am I glad to see you," Harm answered, surprised by how weak and rough his voice sounded.

"I'm Captain Malone," the Marine introduced himself as he handed Harm a canteen. "We're here to take you home."

Harm nodded and gratefully swallowed some water.

"Are you wounded?"

"Yeah, knife in the side. Don't know how bad."

Malone keyed his radio. "The package has a side wound. Can't use the harness. We'll need to find a place to set down."

Harm didn't listen to the exchange. He was really trying hard not to pass out. Soon the Marine was back. "There's a clearing about a quarter mile up ahead. Can you make it?"

Determinedly, Harm got to his feet. "Yeah, I think so." Though he didn't sound sure.

Malone hooked his arm around Harm's uninjured side and they started off through the trees. It was slow going. Harm was sweating and light headed. They stopped once so he could have another drink of water. Neither wasted energy talking.

After the longest quarter mile he had every walked, they came into the clearing. The helo was just a few feet ahead. Harm got inside and collapsed on the floor as it took off, heading east toward the Gulf and the _Vicksburg_.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Mac and the XO had been listening to mission reports from the Ops center. Now the report came in that the package had been located but he was injured. Mac couldn't breathe until a few minutes later when she heard he was aboard and the helo was on its way back to the ship.

Mac waited impatiently for the helo to return. It was the longest hour she could ever remember experiencing. Sick bay had been alerted to expect a casualty. Orders were given that the helo pilot and crew should stand by in case they were needed for transport to NAS Corpus Christi which had a fully equipped hospital.

When the helo touched down on the landing pad, Mac was waiting. A couple of crewman from the ship brought a stretcher and Harm was quickly moved onto it. The ship's medic and his assistants began their examination on deck, beside the helo. Sick bay was not equipped to handle anything extremely serious and they would soon determine whether the helo needed to take Harm to Corpus Christi. The medic took Harm's temperature and gently examined the wound. He removed the makeshift bandage, cleaned it as best he could, and covered it with a fresh bandage. "As soon as I get an IV going to pump in some antibiotics, you'll need to get him to Corpus Christi." The medic instructed.

A couple of minutes later the IV was in place, Harm had received his first dose of antibiotics, and his stretcher was being loaded back in the helo. During the examination, Harm's eyelids had flickered, but he remained unconscious. When the stretcher was aboard, Mac was right behind it. "I'm going with him," she announced.

Commander Hendricks had been watching the examination and now stepped up to the helo door to address Mac. "He'll be in good hands at Corpus Christi, Colonel. Good luck."

Mac nodded her thanks and turned her attention to her partner.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 8**

Harm didn't remember much of the flight to the _Vicksburg_. He was vaguely aware of being moved out of the helo, brought to near consciousness by the pain caused by moving him. He knew he was in the Navy's hands now and gave himself over to the weariness that he couldn't seem to fight.

He became aware of movement again and managed to open his eyes. To his surprise, he found Mac at his side. He tried a weak smile. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself, sailor." Mac took his hand and held it tightly.

He squeezed her hand and asked, "Did we get 'em?"

"More than you know. Last night was the big raid – both sides of the border. We didn't have the final count when I left the command center."

"Good .." Harm drifted a bit but managed to ask another question. "Where are we going?"

"You need a hospital. We're on our way to Corpus Christi. They'll patch you up, shoot you full of antibiotics, and you'll be fine." Mac answered, hoping she was right.

"Okay." And Harm's eyes closed. Mac hoped he was sleeping rather than unconscious.

-o-o-o-o-o-

When they arrived at the Naval base, Harm was whisked away to an examining room. After a short wait, a doctor found Mac pacing in the waiting room.

"Are you here with Commander Rabb?"

"I am. How is he?"

"He has a nasty knife wound in his side. We're taking him to surgery to fix that right now. The wound is infected, but the antibiotics should knock that pretty quickly. He'll be pretty sore for a few days, but he'll be fine." The doctor assured Mac.

After the doctor left, Mac went outside to make some phone calls. First was to the Admiral. Webb had called him earlier with a report on the successful raids, but didn't have any information about Harm. Mac updated the Admiral on Harm's location and condition. Then the Admiral informed Mac that he needed her in the office the next morning since her assignment was finished. Mac hated to leave Harm, but his life wasn't in danger and she couldn't disobey a direct order. She told the Admiral she'd leave as soon as Harm woke up after surgery.

But in fact, Mac wasn't able to stay until Harm was awake. He was still in surgery. When she checked flights, there was only one remaining flight that evening that would get her back to Washington in time to be at work the next morning. To catch it, she had to leave for the airport in less than half an hour.

Mac really didn't want to leave without seeing Harm, but she had no choice. After obtaining a notepad and envelope from the nurses station, Mac pondered for several minutes before writing a note to Harm. It was strange going from the role of Harm's girlfriend back to … what? What was she to Harm? Friend? Not so much any more. She wasn't his real girlfriend. Since officially he wasn't in the Navy, she wasn't his colleague any more either. Time was running out. Mac had to get to the airport, so she gave up, not finding an answer to what she and Harm were to each other now. In the end her note simply wished Harm a speedy recovery and said she would see him in Washington soon. She knew it was stiff and impersonal, but Mac couldn't find the right words. One needed to know what one wanted to say before searching for the words to express it. Mac didn't know what she wanted to say, so of course she couldn't find the words.

_0800 EST  
__Monday, January 24  
__JAG HQ_

Mac arrived on time, as usual, the next morning after arriving in Washington only a few hours earlier because of flight delays. In spite of concern over leaving Harm without talking with the doctor after surgery, Mac managed to get a couple of hours sleep. The last week – it had been just over a week since Harm supposedly left the Navy in disgrace – had been crammed full of worry, stress, satisfaction, and uncertainty. Mac asked to see the Admiral and was told to go in, she was expected.

After telling Mac to take a seat, Admiral Chegwidden looked at the tired Marine. "You get any sleep?" he asked abruptly.

"Some, sir. I'm all right. Have you gotten a final report on the mission?"

"Webb called a few minutes ago. The enforcement teams hit nine locations on both sides of the border. They rounded up 45 people suspected of smuggling contraband and drugs between the US and Mexico. Five of those were top people in the organization. After preliminary questioning, eleven of that group don't seem to be connected with the targeted cartel, but with a rival group trying to take over parts of the business. Apparently they had been sabotaging the planes, making the deliveries unreliable so they could become the alternate supplier. Probably caused the first plane to crash and also forced Rabb's plane down."

"Sounds like a successful effort."

"Very. Webb is pleased, and he tells me the other agencies involved view it as extremely successful."

"What about Harm? What happens now?"

The Admiral hesitated. This part was tricky. "We're still working that out. How is he, by the way?"

"The doctor told me he has a knife wound in his side that became infected. He was still in surgery when I had to leave to catch my plane back here. And what's that mean – what happens to Harm is still being worked out, sir?"

"There's plenty of evidence to make strong cases against most of those in custody so Harm shouldn't need to testify. Still, if we bring him back into the Navy and acknowledge that it was an undercover mission, we could expose him to retaliation from any members of the cartel that we didn't get. It was part of the deal when Harm took this assignment that he might not be able to come back to JAG or the Navy right away."

Mac was shocked. How could they just abandon Harm after sending him on a dangerous mission – one he carried out as ordered. "Sir, you can't just abandon him!"

"Now, Mac. You know better than that. Sounds like he won't be cleared for active duty for awhile so he'll be told to lay low. Call the hospital and let me know his condition."

Mac returned to her office and placed a call to the hospital at NAS Corpus Christi. After several transfers, she was finally told that Commander Rabb was responding well to treatment and expected to be released in a couple of days. She asked to speak directly to Harm, but was told he wasn't available at the moment. After leaving a message for him to call, she reported what she had learned to the Admiral.

The remainder of the day Mac worked on the files that had stacked up during her absence. The number was larger than usual because Harm was also gone. Throughout the day, she kept hoping that he would call, but when Mac left for home at 1800 he still hadn't called. As she prepared for bed and still hadn't heard from him, she began to feel the prickle of worry usually associated with Harm being in trouble. Though it was late, she called the hospital, but was told the patents were asleep for the night and couldn't be disturbed. Mac didn't want to go to sleep, yet there wasn't anything she could do. The lack of sleep the night before finally caught up with her and she drifted off.

_Tuesday  
__Mac's Apartment_

Mac awoke suddenly in the early morning hours with her heart pounding and a sense of impending tragedy. It took a few seconds to realize she had been dreaming, yet she didn't remember the dream – just the sense of fear it produced. It was 0423 and clearly her night's sleep was over. She got up, showered, dressed, and waited impatiently until she could reasonably call the hospital again.

At 0526 her phone rang, and she knew immediately it was not a good thing. Her caller ID showed a blocked call. The caller was Webb.

"Mac, have you talked with Harm since you left Texas?" he asked immediately.

"No. I tried yesterday morning but was told he wasn't available. I left a message for him to call but he never did. What's wrong, Clay?"

"Two of our agents were sent to check on Harm and have the base provide some additional security for him. He wasn't in the hospital."

"But he's in the middle of a Navy base. Surely the cartel's assassins couldn't get to him there?" Mac asked sharply.

Webb hesitated before responding. He knew she wasn't going to like his answer. "Mac, from everything we can learn, Harm left on his own. Checked himself out and disappeared."

"But that makes no sense. Where would he go. He's hurt. He needs medical care."

"The doctors patched him up. Apparently the knife didn't hit anything vital. He was responding well to the antibiotics and he took a prescription with him."

"Is he still wearing the ring with the tracking device?"

"No, the agents found it in his hospital room."

"Damn!"

"Exactly. I'm working on finding out how he left the base, but it would go quicker with a request from the Admiral."

"I'll call him. Let me know when you find anything."

Ignoring the early hour, Mac called the Admiral and updated him. Chegwidden immediately called the base commander at NAS Corpus Christi, who promised to call back shortly with answers. In less than 15 minutes, the Admiral was told that Harm had caught a ride to the airport. Though AJ knew he had an expert at tracking down people using computer records, namely, Lt. Roberts, he still wanted to contain any information about this mission until they knew more. The other experts at tracking people were, of course, the CIA. AJ called Webb with what he knew. Webb set about tracing Harm's activities. An hour later, Mac, the Admiral and Clayton Webb met at JAG HQ to discuss the latest information they had found.

Webb's people had managed to find out quite a lot, but the information gave a puzzling and suspicious picture. "Harm didn't get on a plane, but at an internet kiosk at the airport accessed his bank accounts. Four days ago a deposit of $250,000 was made to his checking account, which he now has transferred to an account in the Cayman Islands. He then rented a car, drew $500 from an ATM, and disappeared."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Still a few chapters to go. Without giving away any of the plot, I can assure you that this is a Harm and Mac romance - more of that later - and my stories have happy endings. To find out how we get there, keep reading. Thanks to all of you who have written reviews and to all who are reading my story. I hope it provides some entertainment and enjoyment.

I should have included this disclaimer at the beginning - but you know the drill: I don't own and claim no rights to any of the JAG characters. Characters not in the series are mine. This story is only for entertainment purposes.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 9**

_Previous evening (Monday)  
__Hospital  
NAS Corpus Christi_

Harm lay on his hospital bed, his body sore and weary, his mind restless and worried. The doctor told him that the knife hadn't hit anything critical and he was responding very well to the antibiotics. He'd probably be released the next day, though he was cautioned to take things easy for a few more days and continue his meds. His mind replayed the assignment, the flight and forced landing, his fight with his pursuer, the feel of the knife in his hand ending a man's life. It wasn't the first time he had killed, but it always bothered him – he hoped he never got to the point of accepting killing without remorse.

His mind continued playback of yesterday's events with the Navy helo picking him up. He vaguely remembered Mac by his side in a helo but wasn't sure just where that fit into the chronology of events. By the time his mind was clear enough to think after his surgery, he was handed a note – a short, impersonal note from Mac saying she had been ordered back to Washington and would see him there.

His restless mind began to dwell on Mac – on how it felt to pretend that they were a couple – to be able to touch her affectionately whenever he wanted to. It had felt so good, so natural, so right, and he wanted it to go on forever. Instead, it lasted just two days, and now she was gone.

His thoughts turned to his future. It was uncertain. He wasn't sure whether his assignment was over – he hadn't been told anything.

As he lay in frustrated agitation, the door opened and a tall, blond man about Harm's age walked in.

"Mr. Rabb?" At Harm's nod, the visitor continued, "I'm Agent O'Conner with the Drug Enforcement Agency. Has anyone briefed you on last night's events?"

"No, I haven't talked with anyone."

O'Conner pulled a chair close to the bed and sat near the edge so they could talk quietly. "It was a very successful night. We rounded up forty plus people involved in transporting, smuggling and selling drugs in both Mexico and the States."

As O'Conner paused, Harm had the feeling there was more to this story. "That's good?" Harm made it a question, trying to find out what else had happened.

"As I said, we arrested many people, but we missed one important player – Charles Estavez. I understand you know him?"

"The man who hired me to fly the shipment was named Charles. He didn't give his last name. He was at the airfield to supervise the shipment, too."

"That was him. We've been tracking his movements, but we don't know who he is – that is, we haven't been able to get a photograph or any way to ID him by sight. You're the only person, outside of his gang, who can recognize him. We need your help."

For some reason, Harm didn't feel good about this – something didn't ring true – but he had no reason to refuse. "Sure, whatever you need."

"We're pretty sure that Estavez is in Houston. When we've confirmed his location, we'll arrest him. We need you to identify him as the man who arranged the flight."

"Okay. I'll probably be released tomorrow, so let me know when you need me."

"Good. Good. I'll be in touch, Mr. Rabb." And with that Agent O'Conner left Harm to resume his restless musings.

_Next morning  
__Tuesday  
__Hospital  
__NAS Corpus Christi_

Harm had spent a surprisingly restful night and awoke feeling almost back to normal – until he moved his body too quickly and felt a pain shoot through his side reminding him that he still had stitches and a knife wound. He managed to eat part of a not entirely unpalatable breakfast. The doctor came in, checked his chart, examined him, and told him he could be released any time today that he was ready to leave.

After the doctor left, Harm realized he probably didn't have any clothes. A friendly nurse offered to take his sizes to the PX and get him something to wear. While he was waiting for her to return, Agent O'Conner once again walked into Harm's room.

"Mr. Rabb, how are you today?"

"Much better. The doctor cleared me to leave – I'm just waiting for some clothes. Did you get him?"

"He's in custody in Houston. Whenever you're ready, I'll take you there."

He had just finished speaking when the nurse came in with a bag of clothes for Harm. He smiled gratefully at her and she left, a slightly dazed look on her face from receiving Harm's 1000-watt smile.

Harm took the clothes and told O'Conner he'd be with him in a few minutes. The nurse had bought two pair of jeans, two shirts, underwear and socks – the only thing that had been salvaged were Harm's boots. Someone had brushed off the soil and leaves, and left them in the closet in the room. The nurse had also bought a small duffle bag for the extra clothes. Harm dressed quickly. After signing the release papers and arranging payment for the clothes, Harm found O'Conner waiting in the main reception area of the hospital.

Leading the way to a black Suburban, O'Conner started it up and turned it toward Houston.

Harm found he was still tired and dozed during some of the trip. They stopped for a quick lunch, and so Harm could take his meds. Early in the afternoon, O'Conner pulled up and parked the Suburban in the parking lot of the Houston FBI headquarters where Estavez was being held.

O'Conner led the way to a small conference room, where he asked Harm to describe his encounters with Estavez. Harm spent several minutes recounting recent events, answering O'Conner's questions for additional details. When O'Conner was satisfied that he had the information he needed, he led the way to the line-up. They entered a darkened room that allowed observation of the men in the line-up without being seen themselves. Five men walked in and Harm recognized Estavez immediately. He took a few seconds to look at each of the other men in the row, then confidently identified Charles Estavez.

O'Conner spoke into a microphone, saying they had what they needed. As they were about to leave the room, another agent called to O'Conner. "Wait here, I'll be back in a minute." He told Harm before leaving the room and closing the door.

When O'Conner returned after several minutes, he told Harm he had just a couple of additional questions, and walked with Harm down another hallway to a room. This wasn't the comfortable conference room where they had first talked; this was clearly an interrogation room, with a sturdy utilitarian table, three battered chairs, and the usual one-way mirror on one of the walls. Harm felt a prickle of unease, but worked to continue to appear relaxed and cooperative.

"Mr. Rabb, though I know how the operation went down, I'd like to understand your part better." O'Conner's tone was still that of a friendly agent talking with a colleague, but Harm had been on the other side of the table too many times. He recognized that O'Conner was now in an interrogation mode and Harm was the suspect. Harm nodded for O'Conner to continue.

"So the CIA recruited you for this op?"

"That's right. JAG has worked with Agent Webb on several occasions."

"He approached you – out of the blue – no particular reason?"

"There was a reason. The CIA's pilot inside the drug cartel was killed in a plane crash. Webb needed a replacement fast. I fit his needs."

"And some coke was planted in your car, so you would be dishonorably discharged from the Navy and be a person of interest, so to speak, for the cartel?"

"That's right."

"So are you really out of the Navy?"

"Yes, the drug charges and dishonorable discharge had to be real to make a solid cover."

"You ever have any contact with drug dealers in Washington?"

"There are always a few cases, but any kind of drug use is a serious offense in the military so we probably handle far fewer drug related cases than civilian prosecutors."

O'Conner stared at Harm for a few seconds, apparently lost in thought. Finally he absently responded, "probably." A couple of seconds later he focused on Harm again and asked, "I understand you're one of the Navy's top lawyers." Harm stayed silent, trying to work out where this was all going. "You could make a lot more money in civilian practice – ever thought about it?"

"I like the Navy life."

"But you aren't in the Navy now. You have enough put aside to tide you through a dry spell?"

"Where is this going, anyway?" Harm was beginning to let his frustration show.

O'Conner ignored his question. "I hear you have a nice apartment downtown DC, drive a vintage Corvette and a Lexus. You live well for a military man."

Harm sat back in his chair, crossed his arms and remained silent.

"You come into some money recently? Or did you get a loan from your step dad – I hear he's a big shot at Chrysler." O'Conner allowed his friendly façade to fade away.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harm was mystified and mildly defiant.

"How do you explain this?" O'Conner pulled a sheet of paper from a file he had brought into the room with him. He pushed the paper across to Harm and tapped his finger on it. "$250,000 deposited in your checking account four days ago."

Harm leaned forward to stare in surprise at the document. "I have no idea where that came from."

O'Conner barely gave Harm a chance to respond before rushing on, "And yesterday that $250,000 was wire transferred to an off-shore account."

"Well, I didn't make that transaction – I was in the hospital." Harm pointed out forcefully.

"You could have had your girlfriend transfer the money – or did you give her access and she cleaned you out? I hear she's quite a looker for a Marine."

Though a flash of anger shot through him at the snide reference to Mac, Harm valiantly remained cool. "Are you charging me with something, Agent O'Conner?"

"I think you were in the drug business before this op came up. And I think someone bought something from you – perhaps the rival cartel paid you to sell out Charles Estevez and his organization so they could take over. You didn't know our sweep would be wide enough to get key members of both cartels, did you? You didn't live up to your end of the bargain and someone's going to be mighty unhappy with you, Rabb," O'Conner jibed. "You're lucky we have you in protective custody."

"Charge me or let me go, O'Conner." Harm was tired of the game, his side ached and he needed to get back to Washington.

"Oh, like I said, you're safer with us for awhile, Rabb. We'll find you a nice holding cell for your own protection." And with that O'Conner stood and turned to leave the room. Harm started to protest again and quickly stood up to follow O'Conner, only to feel a sharp pain shoot through his side that doubled him over and reminded him that just this morning he had been in the hospital.

O'Conner continued out the door and found FBI Special Agent Linda Grinnell in the observation room. "Frank, what's wrong with him?"

"I'm told he took a knife in the side from someone who came looking for his downed plane two nights ago."

"You'd better arrange for a doctor to check on him – if he's guilty, we don't want to compromise our case with mistreatment and if he's not, well, then he deserves our help." When O'Conner only responded with a non-committal grunt, Linda decided she would make sure Rabb got medical attention. She followed O'Conner down the hall. "Did he identify Estavez?"

O'Conner glanced toward Grinnell. "Yeah, but after we found the money in his checking account, I don't know how reliable he is as a witness."

"So where're you headed now?"

"I'm going to keep digging. I need to get enough to charge Rabb."

"Need some help?"

Frank O'Conner looked at Linda Grinnell. She was a tall, attractive blond with a quick, logical mind and was a criminal's worst nightmare because she didn't quit until her case was made. They had worked together on a couple of other cases, and he had great respect for the agent. "Sure, let's go."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 10**

_1812 EST  
__Wednesday  
__JAG Headquarters_

After learning that Harm had made a large deposit to his checking account which he subsequently wire transferred to an off-shore account, then disappeared, Webb promised to have his people keep looking. The day had dragged by with no word. Mac and the Admiral remained at headquarters hoping to hear from Webb soon.

When word finally came, it was not what the earlier information had led them to think. For some unknown reason someone had made the transactions attributed to Harm – the wire transfers, renting a car and the ATM withdrawal. Time enough to pursue that later. Right now they had to deal with the new facts. Harm was being held at the FBI Regional Headquarters in Houston in protective custody. However, when Webb had finally gotten through to a Special Agent Grinnell, she told him they were holding Rabb while trying to find enough evidence to charge him in relation to drug trafficking. The large deposit in his checking account was their main evidence of his involvement.

As soon as Admiral Chegwidden received Webb's report, he was on the phone to the FBI in Houston. The phone call was less than satisfying. Apparently an Admiral in the US Navy didn't have much clout with the FBI in Texas. It was made clear to him that this case was being handled by the FBI and DEA, and that since Rabb was not in the Navy, JAG had no jurisdiction at all. Mac was present during the phone call, and as soon as the Admiral punched the disconnect button, she spoke up.

"Admiral, Harm needs a lawyer to represent him. I'd like to go, sir." When she didn't receive immediate agreement, she continued, "He's injured and being held in jail, sir. He's in danger and he's being railroaded. Sir, we can't abandon him."

The moment the words left her mouth, Mac wanted to take them back. Chegwidden bristled at the implied accusation. As Mac stammered to apologize, the Admiral cut her off. "I have no intention of abandoning him, Colonel. That's why I'm ordering you to catch a red eye to Houston so you can be there to represent Harm. Keep me informed. Dismissed."

Mac snapped to attention. With a brisk, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," she turned and was gone. AJ smiled to himself after Mac's exit. In spite of his concern for Rabb, he smiled as he pictured his fiery Marine chief of staff confronting the FBI and DEA on Harm's behalf. They wouldn't know what hit them. AJ chuckled as he let the scenario play out, then sobered as he hoped Harm would be safe until Mac arrived.

-o-o-o-o-

In fact, Mac found there were no red eye flights from Washington to Houston. The best she could do was a 0600 flight that arrived in Houston just before 0830. After Tiner booked her flight and a hotel, just in case, Mac went home to pack a bag, make sure her uniform was ready, and try to sleep for a couple of hours. Sleep, however, was illusive. She was worried about Harm, but it was more than that. It was as though she could feel his emotions – his wound was throbbing, his body was weary, and emotionally he felt abandoned. She wasn't sure whether she was imagining his feelings, or whether she really could sense him at that great distance. Just in case it was real and just in case it worked both ways, Mac closed her eyes and tried to project her strength to Harm. She told him she was coming, that she would be there with him in the morning, that she needed him to be strong until then. With a sigh she opened her eyes, wondering whether she was being totally foolish.

_0915  
__Wednesday  
__FBI Regional Office  
__Houston_

Mac's flight was on time and she caught a cab to the FBI office. She presented herself as Harmon Rabb's lawyer who was here to see him. After a phone call, she was told that Mr. Rabb was not under arrest but in protective custody. Therefore, she could not see him without the approval of the agent in charge. She was told she needed to see Special Agent Linda Grinnell. When Mac then asked to see Special Agent Grinnell, Mac was told she was not available. With difficulty, Mac contained her frustration. Leaning slightly toward the desk clerk, she went into full Marine mode, speaking softly but with deadly intent. "I am Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie of the Judge Advocate General Corps. You are holding a commander in the United States Navy, a lawyer, an aviator, and a decorated war hero. Now, I want to see him immediately and I want you to call whoever you need to in order to make that happen."

The desk clerk looked as though he would like to have ignored her request, but thought better of it and picked up the phone. After a brief call, he hung up and waited. Less than a minute later, his phone rang. He listened for half a minute, then replaced the hand set and told Mac that someone would be right out to get her.

Mac relaxed slightly and forced herself to stand quietly to wait. She was acutely aware of every second of every minute that she stood waiting. Apparently no one was in any hurry to let her see her client. After seven minutes and 32 seconds, a tall blond man came through the door from the inner building and walked toward Mac.

"Colonel MacKenzie, I'm Agent O'Conner with the Drug Enforcement Agency. I'm working with the FBI on this case. Would you follow me, please?"

O'Conner didn't offer to shake hands and Mac simply nodded by way of greeting. As he led the Marine toward an interrogation room where he would allow her to see Rabb, he pondered the real reason for her appearance here. He had understood that Rabb and MacKenzie were romantically involved, which made her a suspect, along with Rabb. Either these two were so arrogant they thought they wouldn't be caught, or so stupid that they walked into the hands of the authorities, or they weren't guilty of anything at all. O'Conner brought Mac to a room, told her that Rabb would be brought in shortly, and left her alone, going next door to observe.

Mac intuitively felt that O'Conner viewed her as a suspect, too, but was more concerned with seeing that Harm was all right. Again, she was forced to wait as nine minutes and 7 seconds slowly dragged by. Making her wait was clearly planned, but she didn't understand the tactic. Finally, the door opened and Harm came in escorted by a uniformed guard. He wore no restraints and was still in civilian street clothes, which meant that he hadn't been arrested. The relief on his face when he saw her almost brought tears to her eyes, but long training kept her emotions from showing. She couldn't keep herself from stepping closer, though, and asking urgently, "Harm, are you all right?"

"Better now, Marine," he answered with a welcoming smile.

They moved to sit down at the table and Mac noticed that Harm was moving stiffly. "Harm, what's wrong?"

"My wound has been bothering me. A doc looked at it last night and said it was okay, but being in here, I missed my meds, so he made sure I was able to got back on schedule. I'll be okay."

"Have they charged you?"

"No, they claim I'm in protective custody because I identified Charles Estavez, but they're clearly trying to hold me long enough to find some kind of evidence to make a case. Mac, there was a large sum of money deposited in my checking account and then moved out to an off-shore account. I have no idea how it got there."

"I know. When you left the hospital, you didn't check in with anybody so Webb starting checking. He found the money transfer."

"Mac, I need to get out of here to clear my name."

"Webb and the Admiral are working on it through their resources. Don't worry, flyboy, you'll have your wings back before you know it," Mac said, hoping it was true. "Now let's see what I can do to get you out of here."

With that Mac turned toward the mirror and said, "Agent O'Conner, I think my client has a right to hear this discussion. I would appreciate it if you would join us."

The door opened and Frank O'Conner entered, followed by a tall blond woman. Mac had a fleeting thought that she was just Harm's type before focusing on the serious business at hand. The woman stepped forward and offered her hand. "I'm Special Agent Linda Grinnell with the FBI. I've been working with Agent O'Conner on this entire operation."

Mac shook hands and immediately felt better. O'Conner seemed to have his mind made up that both Harm and she were guilty of something, but she didn't get that feeling at all from Grinnell. "Unless you plan to charge my client with something, I'd like to have him released."

"Mr. Rabb is free to go, but we will insist that he remain in Houston for a couple of days in case we have more questions."

Mac wanted to protest – she wanted to get Harm back to Washington and sort out his future – and maybe their future – but with his injury, he probably could use the rest before traveling. "A couple of days rest probably will do him some good," Mac said with a slight smile and a glance at Harm. "We're at the Embassy Suites."

O'Conner told them to stop at the desk for Harm's bag, which they did, and then they were in a cab and on their way to the hotel.

Harm laid his head against the seat back and closed his eyes. He looked exhausted, Mac thought. She wanted to reach out and smooth the worry lines from his face. Without opening his eyes, Harm reached for her hand and held it in both of his large ones. "I'm glad you're here," he said tiredly.

Mac squeezed his hands with both of hers and answered, "So am I."

They arrived at the hotel and checked in. Thank goodness Tiner had thought to arrange for an early check-in. Their room was typical Embassy Suites style with a large bedroom containing two queen beds, a spacious bathroom, separated from the outer living area which was furnished with a sofa, table and chairs, and a kitchen area, including a coffee maker, microwave and fridge.

Mac surveyed the rooms. "This doesn't look too bad." She dropped her bag on the sofa while Harm collapsed tiredly beside her bag. "No, no, no, you don't. Harm, you need some rest. If you push yourself any harder just a day out of the hospital, you won't heal. You'll be more help to yourself and me after you've rested."

Harm looked about to argue, then thought better of it. "I have to have a shower – wash the brig smell off. Then I think I will take a nap."

The hot water felt wonderful. A few minutes later Harm emerged from the bathroom feeling almost human again. He quickly found clean shorts and a t-shirt which he put on in the bedroom.

Mac was reading a file, but also listening for Harm, first in the shower, then moving around in the bedroom. After a few minutes, she heard no more movement and assumed he was resting. Five minutes later Mac looked up as she heard the bedroom door open. She was about to scold him for not being in bed, but stopped when she saw his face. He looked .. tentative, unsure of himself. The look was so foreign to Harm that Mac was instantly concerned. "Harm, what's wrong?" she asked anxiously.

Avoiding eye contact, Harm muttered, "Can't settle down …"

Since she knew Harm had conditioned himself to fall asleep in almost any setting – an ability required on an aircraft carrier because of the varying shifts and close quarters – this statement raised even more concern. "Is your wound bothering you?" she asked, starting with the obvious.

Harm's shoulders slumped with fatigue. "No, not really. I just … you know, I kinda liked the idea of being your boyfriend. Can we just pretend we're friends for a little longer?"

Harm's words pierced Mac to the core. For a second she felt like she couldn't breathe. The next instant she was on her feet and moving toward him. Softly she placed her hand on his chest. "Harm, we don't need to pretend .. at least I don't. I care for you .. a lot. In spite of all the rough patches, I still consider you my friend, my partner, and more …" she stopped, concerned that she had said too much.

But Harm seemed to take the statement at face value. Some of the weariness fell away and the look that came into his eyes made Mac's heart pound. Before anything else could happen, she gently grasped Harm's arm and turned him back to the bedroom. She went with him, stepping up to one of the beds and patting it. "OK, flyboy. Be good now and get some rest," she said playfully as she pulled the covers back so he could slip in.

When Harm was in the bed, Mac smoothed the covers around him. Sleep seemed to be coming quickly now, but just when it looked like he would drift off, he reached for Mac's hand. "Stay here for a bit?"

Mac squeezed his hand in response as she sat down on the bed next to Harm. "Of course." As his eyes closed, she couldn't resist running her hand lightly over his brow to check for fever. His temperature felt normal, but her fingers lingered. Harm gave a pleased murmur as he drifted off.

Mac sat for another nine minutes watching him sleep. They really needed to get Harm's name cleared and get him back to his professional life so they could take time for personal matters. She was starting to believe that they might be able to work things out between them if they could just devote some time to each other.

When Harm was soundly asleep, Mac gently slipped her hand out of his, got up and went to the living room. It was time to report in. When the call went through, she quickly updated the Admiral on the suspicions of the authorities that Harm was involved in the drug deals because of the money that had gone through his account. She assured the Admiral that Harm's medical condition seemed to be improving and would improve quickly now that he was able to get a good rest at the hotel.

The Admiral didn't have any more information about the mysterious money, so Mac decided to call Webb. Clay told her that his people were back tracking the wire transfers in and out of Harm's account. They had enough evidence, he believed, to clear Harm's name.

"Then let's get it to the FBI so Harm can get out of here," she demanded impatiently.

"Mac, I know you want to help Harm, but give us a little more time. We need to find the source of the money. If you go to the police before we've finished our work, we may lose our chance of getting whoever made the transfers and it may put Harm in great danger if it's the work of the cartel," Clay urged.

Mac reluctantly agreed. Actually, she didn't mind staying here for awhile .. in this hotel .. in the same hotel room with Harm .. with only one bedroom … 'All right, MacKenzie, behave!' she told herself as she pulled her mind away from that path.

Waiting was something that Mac was not good at. At first she paced, but as she accepted the fact that Harm's name would be cleared, his wound was healing, he still wanted to be friends, and soon their lives would get back to normal, she felt the lack of sleep from the previous night begin to pull her toward the bedroom. Clay would be calling when he had identified the source of the money – he had said his people still had more work to do – so Mac had time for a nap.

Walking into the bedroom, she stood by Harm's bed for a minute watching him peacefully sleeping. Then she slipped her uniform off, hung it up, and wearing only her bra and panties, slipped into the unoccupied bed.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 11**

_1246  
__Wednesday  
__Embassy Suites Hotel  
__Houston_

Mac woke to the sound of someone knocking on the door. She had put out the DO NOT DISTURB sign when they arrived, so she doubted it was housekeeping. Instinctively she reached under her pillow, remembering, as her hand found nothing, that she had been unable to bring a weapon on the commercial flight. As she noted that she had been asleep for two hours and 12 minutes, she glanced toward Harm's bed. She found him awake and looking at her with a strange expression.

The knocking was repeated. As Mac threw back the covers, she remembered she was wearing only her bra and panties. With as much confidence as she could muster, she quickly slipped on her uniform and left the bedroom without looking at Harm again.

When she looked through the peephole in the door, she was surprised to see that their visitor was Clayton Webb. Quickly unlocking and opening the door, she asked the predictable question, "Clay, what are you doing here?"

"Hello, Mac. I was en route when we spoke earlier. My bosses want personal follow up with the other agencies involved, so here I am. I also have news."

Harm appeared at the door to the bedroom, now wearing blue jeans in addition to the t-shirt from earlier. "Clay, what did you find out?"

They sat around the table as Webb set down his briefcase and flipped it open. He pulled out several pictures clearly taken from a surveillance camera, and spread them across the table. They showed Charles Estavez and another man standing close together as though discussing something they didn't want overheard. Clay pointed to the unknown man and asked, "Do either of you know this man?"

Both Harm and Mac looked closely and shook their heads.

Clay continued, "We believe he is the cartel's computer geek – he manages the technical aspects of their security, has done phone tapping, provided devices to carry out long-range surveillance, makes sure their computer records are securely encrypted, and so on. He was not among those arrested two nights ago. Though he covered his trail very well, it appears he is the one who made the wire transfers of the money into and out of your account. He also planted a false electronic trail that you rented a car and withdrew money from an ATM, so it would look like you were making a run for it."

"So where is he now?" Harm asked.

Webb shook his head. "He's probably left the country. With most of the leaders of the cartel in jail, he wouldn't stick around. His attempt to throw suspicion on you was probably his last act of loyalty to Estavez. From what we could find out, it appears that Estavez and this man, whose real name we still don't know, had been having periodic … romantic encounters for several years."

"So where does that leave Harm?" Mac asked, concerned that this loose end would not allow closure.

"I'm on my way to the FBI headquarters here to sort that out. We have enough evidence to clear Harm of any involvement, but I'll have to get an official agreement from the DEA and the FBI on that."

As Clay put the pictures back in his briefcase and stood up, Harm and Mac prepared to go with him. Webb had other ideas. "I know you two want to get this cleared up in person, but you're better off staying here. Let me handle this."

"No way!" was Harm's firm disagreement. "This is my life, Clay. I've got to get this cleared up before I can set the record straight and get my commission back."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Two hours later Harm, Mac and Clay walked out of the Houston FBI headquarters. Harm let out a sigh as though he had been afraid to draw a full breath for hours. "That went better than I expected. I'm glad it's over."

Mac made a strange noise that sounded a bit like a snort, which brought Harm's questioning gaze to her. Mac ignored him as she thought about their recently completed meeting.

Upon arrival at the FBI, Harm, Mac and Clay had met with Agents O'Conner and Grinnell. Clay reviewed for the agents all of the evidence the CIA had accumulated against members of the cartel and to clear Harm of any connection other than the undercover assignment he had been carrying out for the jointly planned, multi-front strike against the illegal drug business. Clay then provided extensive written documentation of everything he had presented.

While O'Conner was slow to change his attitude toward Harm, Agent Grinnell came close to apologizing to Harm for ever doubting him, and thanked him for his willingness to participate in such a dangerous role in the operation. Harm, feeling the weight of suspicion slip from his shoulders, gave Linda Grinnell a full thousand-watt smile. Mac watched with a cynical twist to her lips as the FBI agent's eyes glazed slightly as she was hit with the full power of Harmon Rabb's charm.

Now all Mac wanted to do was get back to Washington. Harm needed to take it easy for a couple of days to give his wound a chance to heal and he needed to see the Admiral to sort out his future. But that was Harm's responsibility, not hers. As she had observed the sparks between Harm and the female FBI agent, Mac was forcefully reminded why she had erected walls around her feelings. Harmon Rabb could cause her hurt just by being Harm .. and she was tired of it. He seemed to need her when he was injured but his natural resiliency made those times brief and rare.

Clay had driven to the FBI in his rented car. Now he dropped Harm and Mac at their hotel so they could check out and catch a flight back to DC. Webb said he had other business and wasn't going back to Washington just yet.

And so a little over two hours after leaving their hotel, Mac walked briskly toward their room, with Harm breathing heavier than normal because a pain caught him in the side as he moved quickly to keep up with her.

Once inside the room, Mac continued through to the bedroom and grabbed the few articles of clothing she had pulled out of her bag and began repacking them. Harm stood in the doorway trying to figure out why Mac seemed angry. Wasn't she glad that everything was cleared up? That they could go home?

"Mac, have you confirmed that we can get a flight tonight?" Harm asked hoping to find a uncontroversial subject.

Mac stopped mid-way to her bag with more personal items in her hands. She suddenly felt silly being angry at Harm because he had a devastating smile that charmed most women out of their senses. Was she actually jealous! No! Of course not! But she knew she was lying to herself.

"I guess one of us better check on flights before we check out of our hotel." She conceded. As she felt her stomach growl, she added, "And we should eat."

"Well, I was beginning to wonder whether they sent an imposter for my Marine when you hadn't mentioned food all day," Harm teased playfully.

'His Maine? Did he just call me his Marine?' Mac thought to herself as she looked up in surprise. But Harm was looking at her with the same friendly teasing expression that she had seen a hundred times before. No hidden romantic sparks there. Just wishful thinking on her part, she decided.

"All right, you see what we can get for a flight back to DC and I'll call the concierge for a recommendation on restaurants."

-o-o-o-o-o-

As it turned out, they couldn't get a flight back until the next morning. They called the Admiral to update him and let him know they would be back the next day. The recommendation of the concierge brought them to a restaurant just two blocks from the hotel. Its menu featured both vegetarian entrées and 'dead animal' for Mac. She cut into a medium rare steak and showed almost obscene pleasure, in Harm's opinion, as she savored the morsel. With a teasing glint in his eyes and raised eyebrows, Harm asked, "Is there anything you enjoy more than dead animal?"

Mac's immediate thought was, 'I know I would enjoy sex with you more,' then blushed at her risqué thoughts.

Harm watched her reaction, wondering what on earth Mac was thinking. Puzzled, he asked, "What did I say?" Then in a more suggestive voice, "What are you thinking?"

This only made Mac blush more. Suddenly she felt like rocking Harm's world just a little. "I was thinking that I'd enjoy having sex with you more." The minute the words were out of her mouth, her reckless courage faltered, but she refused to back off.

Harm's expression was priceless – shock, embarrassment, then rather quickly evolving to something more provocative. He leaned closer and in the sexiest voice she had ever heard him use, he asked softly, "Would you like to test that theory?"

Mac held his gaze unflinchingly and answered, "Yes."

Harm had never expected her to call his bluff. He sputtered and backed away. Mac watched in amusement as he coughed slightly, cleared his throat, and finally decided on an answer, "Maybe we should test that theory another time, when I'm feeling 100. It wouldn't be a fair test otherwise."

"So you're standing by your offer?" Mac was suddenly determined to get some kind of commitment from Harmon Rabb, even though it wasn't the one she wanted. Of course, she wouldn't hold him to this, but it was entertaining to watch him squirm.

Harm's confidence and poise was quickly returning. "Yes, I'll stand by my offer. Two weeks from today my wound should be sufficiently healed to provide an effective comparison."

"All right, it's a date," Mac said firmly. She thought Harm would back away, but he was looking at her with a slightly wolfish gleam in his eye. He thought she wouldn't go through with it, she realized. He thinks I'm bluffing. And she had been .. well, she still was. But a resolve was forming in Mac's mind. She didn't want a fling with Harm. On the other hand, she was pretty sure that if they ever crossed that line, they would never regret it, never want to go back. Maybe for them, the physical love came before the words.

After that provocative conversation, each had worried about the intimate and potentially embarrassing situations that could arise from their sharing a bedroom at the hotel. However, both seemed to understand an unstated agreement that they would not push the romantic envelope any further this night. The only time they stepped close to dangerous territory was after they were both in their own beds. Harm remembered Mac's reaction when Clay had been knocking at their door and asked, "Before, when Clay came knocking, what were you looking for under your pillow?"

Mac looked slightly embarrassed, "My service pistol. Force of habit."

"You normally keep a weapon under your pillow?" Harm asked in surprise.

Mac met his eyes steadily and answered, "Of course. Don't all Marines?"

"I don't know. I haven't slept with any Marines… I guess I had better not disappoint you in two weeks. It could be dangerous!" And with that provocative remark, Harm arranged his pillow to his satisfaction and settled down for the night, while Mac felt her mouth drop open with mild shock. Then she grinned. She was really looking forward to that night in two weeks.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

**Chapter 12**

_Next morning (Thursday)  
__Embassy Suites Hotel  
__Houston_

They had both slept well. Apparently with the resolution of several remaining parts of Harm's special assignment, Harm and Mac allowed themselves to relax and rest through the night. Their flight was late morning and they didn't arrive back in Washington until 1625. When Mac reported their flight schedule to the Admiral, he told her that they should both go home and report in the next morning. He told Mac that he was working on how to bring Harm back into the Navy in a way that made it clear that the charges had been untrue.

They didn't talk much during the flight, but when they did, it was to joke and tease. Both felt like they were back at the beginning of their partnership. But now the sexual tension had a deadline. Neither was sure what would happen when Harm's two-week time ended, but the idea of what could happen added potency and double meanings to many of their jokes.

_Next morning  
__JAG HQ  
__Falls Church, Va_

The Admiral had made an announcement to the staff the previous afternoon. They were told that Harm's recent brush with the law had been staged for a special assignment and that he would soon be reinstated in the Navy. Bud at first felt great relief, then anger began gnawing at him. Harm had let Bud think the charges were real. Bud knew the ruse had been necessary to protect Harm's safety if it was some kind of undercover assignment. Still Bud couldn't help feeling that he had been used.

The feeling nagged at him the prior evening, until Harriet asked him what was wrong. When Bud reluctantly confided his feelings, Harriet wisely advised him, "Bud, you carried your role out just as Harm knew you would. I'm sure it was an important part of his cover story. He'll be back safely and he didn't do anything wrong. Let's be happy about that."

"You're right, sweetie. I don't know what's wrong with me." Bud pulled her to him for a quick kiss that turned sweet and lingering. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he told her in a soft voice.

Now Bud and Harriett were in early and awaiting the arrival of Harm and Mac. They assumed that since the colonel had also been out of the office, she was involved in some way in Harm's assignment.

A few minutes before 0800, Mac arrived with Harm just minutes behind her. Since Harm was still officially not in the Navy, he wore a dark suit, looking a bit pale, but was clearly glad to be back in the office. They were told that the Admiral was waiting for them and they disappeared into his office.

Mac came to attention while Harm stood slightly less stiffly beside her. Chegwidden looked carefully at Harm. There were a few lines of fatigue around his eyes and he looked a little pale, but the Admiral decided that he generally looked fit for duty. "Welcome back, Colonel, Mr. Rabb."

"Thank you, sir," was the duet response.

The Admiral looked at Harm. "I understand from the Colonel's report that you're in the clear with the authorities in Houston and that you identified one of the key members of the drug cartel. Will you need to return to Houston for his trial?"

"Very likely, sir, but that could be several months away."

The Admiral picked up a paper from a file on his desk. "I told you when you took this assignment that getting you back in the Navy without broadcasting the fact that your discharge was all a phony cover story and calling retaliation on you from the drug lords might be tricky. The Navy needs to understand that your name is clear, but the civilian world won't be as aware of that for now. I have arranged for you to be assigned directly to the Secretary of Defense's office at the Pentagon for three months. I can't think of a stronger statement of the Navy's confidence in you than a high level post in the Pentagon. Just to work in the building requires a higher security clearance than most other military locations in the world."

Chegwidden handed Harm the paper he had been holding. "I've signed the paperwork for your reinstatement. Take this copy and get yourself checked out at Bethesda. As soon as you're cleared for duty, report to your new duty assignment."

Harm understood the significance of the temporary assignment. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"And Harm, I'm glad you're back safe. Dismissed. Colonel, I have a couple of cases for you."

Harm and Mac exchanged a quick look as Harm turned to leave the office. The look said that they'd talk later about this latest development. Harm was clearly pleased and Mac tried to look just as pleased, though she would miss having him around the office for the next three months.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The doctors at Bethesda carefully examined the healing knife wound in Harm's side. Their prodding was painful and Harm left the hospital with his side once again throbbing. He was told that even though the knife hadn't hit any vital organs, it had cut through quite a lot of muscle and the infection appeared to have been severe enough that it slowed down the healing. He was allowed restricted duty for a few days beginning Monday – half days only – and told to return on Wednesday to have the stitches removed and to be checked again.

Now Harm was back in his apartment for the first time in just over a week, feeling more like months had passed instead of just a few days. He checked his uniform for Monday, looked through his accumulated mail, and dropped down on the sofa to rest for few minutes. He lay his head back but while his body relaxed, his mind refused to slow down. He found himself thinking about the times he had been able to hold Mac while pretending to be her boyfriend. He had liked that feeling – a lot. His imagination played out scenes that would be normal if they were dating. He could take her dancing – and hold her close, breathe in her faint, clean scent as he buried his face in her hair. He could kiss her hello or good night. Perhaps if things went well, they would sleep in each other's arms and awake together. He couldn't think of anything more appealing than to be a couple with Mac.

And now they had another deal .. one with a much closer deadline than the baby deal. Less than two weeks. A plan was forming in Harm's mind. A plan to show Mac that he cared, that he wanted to be more than her professional partner. And though he was only temporarily out of the same chain of command, if their circumstances changed in the next three months, perhaps the change could become permanent.

As Harm sat lost in these enjoyable thoughts, he realized that he was hungry and that his fridge was empty because he had been away. Slipping on his jacket, he left his apartment in search of lunch.

-o-o-o-o-o-

As Mac left the office at the end of the day, she pulled out her cell phone and hit the speed dial. Harm answered in two rings.

"Hey, sailor. What did the doctors have to say?"

"Cleared for limited duty on Monday. I have to go back on Wednesday to have the stitches out. They said I'm having the discomfort because it cut a lot of muscle even though it hit nothing vital."

"Good. You up for some company? I thought I'd bring over supper."

"I won't turn down an offer like that." Harm smiled.

They spent a pleasant evening together. Mac told Harm about her latest cases. Harm speculated on what he would be doing in the Secretary of Defense's office. Before it was very late, Mac rose to leave.

Harm followed her to the door, and held her jacket while she slipped it on. Just as she reached for the door handle, Harm slipped his arm around her, turning her toward him. "Thanks for everything this past week, Mac." He said softly. And before he could lose his nerve, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. He intended it to be a quick kiss, but when he felt Mac respond, he couldn't resist extending it and deepening it, just a little. Before he overstepped himself, he pulled back.

Mac looked up and saw the warmth in Harm's eyes. She brought her hand up and ran just one finger down his cheek, so lightly he could barely feel it. "You're welcome, Harm." As she stepped back, she added, "You rest this weekend, but if you'd like some company, call me."

He hadn't quite released her yet. With a grin, he dropped a quick kiss on her nose. "Thanks. I'll do that. Good night."

Harm closed the door behind her and then walked to his window, looking down to watch Mac get in her car and drive away. Just before she pulled out of the parking lot, he knew she was looking up toward him. He couldn't quite make her out inside the car, but he sketched a quick wave, knowing she was watching.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Harm and Mac spent part of Saturday and Sunday together. Mac made sure that Harm had food and his meds, that his uniforms were ready for Monday and helped with his laundry, but left him on his own much of the time so he could get plenty of rest. She wanted him to recover quickly and be in top form in two weeks. She grinned at the idea, still expecting Harm would back out at the last minute.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Without much apparent planning on either of their parts, their days fell into a routine. At the end of the day, Mac would call Harm and offer to bring over supper. Harm accepted for the first few days, but after his stitches had been removed and he was cleared for full duty, he insisted on being the one to bring supper to her sometimes.

In fact, both had been doing some planning. Without knowing the intent of the other, each vowed to spend as much time together as the other would allow. Each wanted to show the other that being a couple could be a good thing.

Since Harm no longer saw Mac at the office, he wanted to do something to keep him on her mind during the day. Little did he know that she had more of a problem keeping him out of her mind, so when a colorful, sweet scented bouquet of flowers was delivered to her at the office, it did nothing to help her concentration. The card simply said, "Thinking of you," and wasn't signed. He had purposely remained anonymous so that Mac could be secretive with her co-workers if she wished.

Shortly after the time that Harm estimated that the flowers would be delivered, his cell phone rang. The caller I.D. showed it was Mac. Still he answered it as usual, "Rabb."

"What's the occasion, flyboy?"

"No occasion. Just what the card says. I was thinking about you."

"Well, thank you. They're lovely and you're sweet. See you tonight."

And, in spite of Harriett's rather pointed comments and obvious invitations to share the information, Mac found she wanted to keep the identity of her admirer to herself for awhile, and spent the day with a secret smile on her lips that made her co-workers wonder even more.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

A/N: Thanks to those still reading. I hope my story has provided some entertainment. Only one chapter left after this one. Chapter 13 is short, but I split it up so there is a total of 14 chapters. I'm not particularly superstitious about the number 13, but one never knows ...

**Chapter 13**

_Wednesday  
__JAG HQ  
__Falls Church, VA_

Mac worked diligently at the files on her current cases, but every so often she couldn't keep her mind from sliding ahead a few days. Harm's promise of two weeks was due on Friday. Neither had mentioned it, but she was pretty sure Harm was just as aware of the upcoming deadline as she was. They had spent a lot of time together since returning to Washington. A few times they disagreed strongly enough about something that a few sparks flew. Then Harm's eyes would start to dance and the smile he kept just for Mac would pull at his lips. Mac just couldn't stay mad at him when he looked at her like that, though she was loath to admit it to Harm. She just looked back at him, doing her best not to smile back, and abruptly changed the subject to something either neutral or something she knew they would agree on, a tactic that only made Harm smile more broadly.

The evening before, Harm had brought the ingredients and he and Mac prepared supper together at Mac's apartment. Afterwards they talked about their work and their cases. Harm had been pleasantly surprised at the duties his new assignment included. He had been a bit concerned that Admiral Chegwidden had called in some favors and gotten some kind of "made" job for him at the Pentagon for three months. Instead, Harm found himself working closely with the Deputy Secretary of Defense, advising him on international law and military matters of all kinds. Clearly, the Deputy Secretary found Harm's combat experience, as well as his training as both an aviator and a lawyer, to be of great value. The work was interesting; Harm felt useful in the position; and he was happy with his work assignment.

As they told each other about their day's experiences, Harm and Mac had fallen into the habit of sitting close together on the sofa. One evening, Mac shivered slightly when she sat down. Harm immediately pulled her back against his chest and wrapped a fleece blanket around both of them. Mac snuggled back under his arm and felt warm and content. From that evening forward, that was their favorite position for their chat about the days' events, even if the apartment wasn't cold enough to warrant the need of each other's body heat.

On Tuesday evening, Harm formally asked Mac to go to dinner with him on Friday evening. They had many times gone to each other's apartments to spend the evening together, but both recognized that this was their first real "date." Mac readily accepted and though again neither acknowledged the approaching deadline, both had great anticipation of the weekend.

So it was that on Wednesday morning, as Mac worked on her cases, Harm's sparkling eyes and teasing smile on several occasions invaded her senses, forcing her to pause in her work for a few seconds, first to allow her to take pleasure in the image and then to redirect her mind back to the case at hand.

It was 1100 when Mac's phone rang and Tiner told her that the Admiral wanted to see her. Immediately, Mac had a sinking feeling that the much anticipated weekend ahead was about to be sidetracked.

And she was right. She and Sturgis were sent to the Seahawk on its way to the Med. An altercation had occurred involving six sailors and three marines. All were in the brig and none were willing to explain the reason for the fight. Mac and Sturgis were to help the ship board JAG and NCIS officer investigate the incident and bring whatever charges were warranted. With a day's travel each way, nine participants and an undetermined number of witnesses to interview, it was unlikely that they would be able to return to Washington until well into the following week.

Mac sighed with disappointment as she sat down at her desk and picked up the phone to call Harm to cancel their date for Friday. Sounding equally disappointed, Harm wished her a safe and speedy trip and a quick resolution of the case. To be safe, they postponed their date for one week.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Eight days later Sturgis and Mac were finally on their way back to Washington on the COD. Their investigation had revealed an unlawful gambling operation run by one of the sailors and unhappily participated in by the others involved in the fight. There were accusations that the results of bets were intentionally being incorrectly announced, that the full winnings weren't paid out, that bets were incorrectly recorded as losers instead of winners, practices that enraged those placing the bets. Everyone participating in the gambling was violating the UCMJ, as well as being charged for fighting aboard ship. The captain didn't want the men on his ship any longer and believed it would be too disruptive to hold the trials on board. Consequently, the nine accused men were sent to the closest Navy base for trial. Luckily, Sturgis and Mac weren't assigned to the trials so they were able to return home.

Mac and Harm had talked a couple of times, but ship to shore time for personal reasons was limited. Mac managed to leave Harm a voice mail that she was on her way home, but she hadn't talked with him for two days.

It was just after 1900 when Mac wearily got to her apartment door .. and paused. It sounded like music playing inside. Cautiously she reached for the door handle and found it unlocked. She pushed the door open and was enveloped by delicious smells from the kitchen and soft music that seemed to flow and curl around her. She had been quiet but Harm's radar must have been on alert, because a second later he hurried out of the kitchen toward her. He hesitated just a second in front of her, then swept her into his arms in a warm, welcoming hug. Mac clung to him, while the realization of just how much she had missed him punched her in the chest and stole her breath for several seconds. When she found her voice, she pressed her face into his neck and whispered, "I missed you, Sailor."

"I missed you, too, Marine."

In an effort to defuse the emotionally charged homecoming, Mac stepped back and asked, "What smells so heavenly from the kitchen?"

Harm's response, "pot roast," shot Mac's eyebrows nearly to her hairline, and made her eyes suspiciously moist. She knew full well that Harm would never make beef for himself, that he had made it just for her homecoming.

Mac's voice was a bit choked as she said, "You'll spoil me, Sailor."

"And you deserve to be spoiled," Harm promptly responded. Then he took her hand and led her into the kitchen where they proceeded to put the finishing touches on the meal together.

As they sat contentedly at the table after their meal, Harm asked, "So are we still on for tomorrow night?"

"I hope so. How's your side, by the way?" Mac decided to give Harm a nudge in case he had forgotten his promise or challenge, depending on the perspective.

"I'm 100 percent – fully recovered," he assured her with a slight leer in is expression.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Assignment for Webb  
By Bernadeen

A/N: This last chapter is just for fun. Have to up the rating, though. Enjoy.

Rated: M

**Chapter 14**

_Friday_

The next evening, Harm took Mac to one of their favorite restaurants. It was a favorite because the menu had enough variety to satisfy Mac's carnivorous appetite and Harm's vegetarian palate. Mac ordered a large steak, medium rare, and much as she had done three weeks ago, she savored each bite. Harm watched, fascinated, and felt himself becoming aroused. How would it feel if Mac acted that way about the things he could do to her? Pulling his mind away, he decided to bring the challenge back into the open. With a wicked grin, he asked, "So, Mac, do you still want to find out whether … other activities … give you as much pleasure as eating that steak?"

Mac almost choked and quickly took a sip of water. "You offering to let me make the comparison?" she asked saucily. She couldn't believe that Harm wouldn't back out at the last minute.

Harm's look was intense. "Come with me and see?"

Mac's breath caught in her throat and her response sounded slightly strangled. "Okay."

"We can leave whenever you're ready."

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Harm's apartment  
__Later that evening_

Now that they were here, Harm was suddenly nervous. This felt like a seduction, something he had never really attempted with a woman. Truth be told, he had never needed to. Yet in another way, it wasn't a seduction. When Harm heard the word seduction, he thought of the Victorian scenario where the experienced man set a stage to lure the young, naïve woman to allow intimate advances that society frowned upon. Harm had to admit he set the stage a bit, setting the lights to a warm glow, chilling sparkling cider in the fridge, placing two vases of fragrant flowers around the apartment, having soft music ready on the CD player, and, of course, having freshly laundered linens on the bed. Yet Mac was far from naïve, they both knew what this night was for.

Mac slipped her coat off as she surveyed the apartment, noticing the romantic touches. Harm hung their coats and followed Mac toward the sofa. On the way, he flipped on the music and brought the cider from the fridge. Quickly filling two wine glasses, he silently offered one to Mac with a confident smile that didn't entirely hide his nervousness. Even though this could be just good sex, it would mean so much more to him .. and he hoped to Mac. He hoped it would mean an important change in their relationship .. and he acknowledged to himself that that change could turn out good or badly. 'Don't screw this up, Rabb!' he told himself as he sat next to Mac.

Harm held up his glass. "To friendship .. and love .. and good steaks."

The toast broke the tension. Mac laughed so hard, she had difficulty taking a sip of the cider. Putting her glass on the coffee table, she leaned toward Harm, still chuckling. "Well, Sailor. Let's see what you've got."

Harm grinned. "Just like that? No seduction? No romance? Just .. it?"

"This is your show, Harm. You made the challenge so do whatever you have to do." She answered saucily. "Anyway, you've done okay in the seduction category so far," Mac added as she swung her eyes around the apartment.

Harm sat silently gazing at Mac for a few seconds as fantasy scenes he had been imaging for four weeks flashed through his mind. Then he carefully set his glass on the coffee table beside hers. He brought his hand up to Mac's face, gently cupping the side of her head, his thumb caressing her cheek, then lightly toughing her lips. It was subtle and sensual and Mac felt herself shiver as her lips twitched with the temptation to kiss his thumb. She resisted the urge to participate, staring into Harm's eyes, waiting for his next move. She didn't need to wait long.

Harm followed his thumb with his lips. The kiss was gentle, yet seductive. Just as Mac moved to respond, Harm left her lips, moving across her cheek and trailing kisses down her neck. Mac made a sound like a purr, as he kissed a spot just above her collarbone, and she moved her head to allow him easier access. He kissed the sensitive place again, then trailed the tip of his tongue across the same spot, to be rewarded with another soft purr.

For the evening out, Mac had worn soft pants cut so full that they looked like a skirt when she wasn't walking, topped with an emerald green sweater that buttoned down the front. Harm began releasing the small buttons, placing a kiss on each newly exposed patch of skin, until he reached her lacy bra.

Mac was having trouble holding onto reality. She didn't want to admit too quickly, even to herself, that Harm would easily prove his challenge. Right now it didn't seem important to avoid feeding his ego. She was in the midst of an event that she had dreamed of for years. With a sigh she gave herself over to the feelings, the sounds, the touches, the scents of the moment.

Harm took his time pulling the sweater from Mac's waist band, all the while kissing and sucking the soft skin across tops of her breasts. When the sweater was free, he slid his hands underneath and up along her back, feeling the toned muscles flex at his touch. With experienced ease he unhooked her bra and let it slide away, releasing Mac's breasts to his eager eyes and mouth.

Harm couldn't resist tasting each of her luscious breasts before drawing back. He didn't want to break the rhythm too far into the 'event' so he silently stood, holding out a hand to Mac. She took his hand, and he led her up the few steps to his bedroom, where he slipped her sweater and bra off, along with his own shirt, before they lay down together on the bed.

Harm continued his exploration of Mac's body, with his hands, lips and tongue. Mac's hands slid across his chest, caressing his nipples, and following Harm's lead in the slow, sensual foreplay. As Harm's kisses moved downward, and he found a sensitive, and slightly ticklish, spot just to the side of Mac's belly button, she suddenly put both her hands on the sides of his face and brought their lips together in a searing kiss. Tongues touched and sparred, as hands removed the last garments preventing skin to skin contact. The pace quickened, as each felt the urgency to fulfill their physical needs. As their bodies joined, Harm looked into Mac's glowing coffee eyes, and said the words she had waited so many years to hear, "Sarah, I love you."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harm and Mac lay together as their breathing slowed, the euphoria of their joined climax fading into the contented joy that follows great sex with someone you care deeply about. Mac was the first to move, only to snuggle closer and nuzzle into Harm's neck. Her voice was muffled as she stated the obvious. "You win."

Harm pulled his attention back to Mac's voice from an all-consuming feeling of fulfillment. It took a few seconds to understand her meaning, then he grinned. "So that was better than a half-bloody piece of dead cow?"

The reward for his humor was a slap on the chest as Mac began to move away from him. Harm tightened his arms around her and pulled her back against him. "Oh, no, you don't. It took us too many years to get to this position and I'm not giving it up until I have to."

"Sorry, Flyboy. You're going to have to. Nature call." And with that Mac rose gracefully and headed toward the bathroom, totally comfortable with the fact that she was completely nude.

"Come right back," Harm called, as he enjoyed the view of Mac's firm, sexy derrière.

Mac shot him a sexy grin and a look that clearly said 'where else would I want to be' before stepping through the bathroom door.

Harm lay peacefully almost dozing until he felt Mac crawl into bed beside him. She didn't come back to snuggle, and after a bit Harm turned his head to look questioningly at her. Mac was lying with her head propped on a pillow with her arm beneath it and looking at him. Harm's first reaction was concern that she had regrets. "What?" he questioned.

"This changes things," she stated the obvious.

"You knew that."

"Yes, of course. I just didn't think our being together would be so … would feel so … right." She stopped as though thinking she had said too much.

A sexy happy grin spread across Harm's face. "It does feel right," he agreed, slightly surprised at the realization. Then he continued, "why shouldn't it feel right? We've both known we wanted this for a long time.." As Mac began to protest, Harm continued, "I know we've taken a long and winding route to get here, but deep down, didn't you know eventually we'd be together?"

Mac smiled and moved closer, draping her arm across his chest. "I suppose so, deep down." She shook her head. "We still have our careers to deal with. And it won't be easy to become a couple at our age – we're pretty set in our ways."

"Speak for your self. I'm entirely flexible in a relationship." Harm stated, his tongue firmly in his cheek, then continued sincerely, "and I truly believe we can work things out in our careers. This opportunity with the DOD should help find separate career paths in Washington."

After a few seconds, Harm turned and raised his head so he could meet Mac's eyes. "I meant what I said .. I love you, Sarah. At the risk of moving too fast, I want to be clear. I want us to be together, a couple … and eventually ... maybe not so far in the future, I want you to be my wife. I'm not asking now – I'm just stating my intentions .. for the record." Harm finished with a smile and a loving caress down Mac's cheek.

Mac stared at Harm. It was everything she had fantasized about for so long. Was this another dream? "Pinch me, Harm."

"What?"

"Pinch me. I think I'm dreaming .. I know I've had this dream so many times before and I always wake up to find it wasn't true. Is this really happening?"

"You've had this dream?" Harm teased. "So you've often dreamed about me? Well, well … if only I'd known, I'd have worked harder to make your dreams come true sooner."

Mac let out a sound suspiciously like a snort. "Now I suppose you consider yourself pretty hot stuff to be the subject of my dreams? Careful, Harm. I'll start a rumor that you have a Marine dreaming about you and I won't bother to clarify that the Marine is a woman."

Harm reached out toward Mac, his long fingers finding Mac's side. Mac gave a decidedly un-Marine like squeal and rolled away to avoid being tickled. Harm's long reach stopped her escape and the match was on. They playfully wrestled on the bed, each trying to find a ticklish or otherwise vulnerable spot on the other's still nude body. They were laughing so hard that neither had much strength to really try to get the upper hand. Suddenly Mac twisted away from Harm as he again tried to tickle her. In the process of pushing Harm way, neither realized how close to the edge of the bed he was. With a surprised grunt, Harm found himself rolling off the bed and hitting the floor. Mac's grinning face quickly appeared over the edge of the bed. Harm's long arms and quick reflexes allowed him to grab Mac and pull her off the bed and down on top of him.

Suddenly Mac was lying full length on top of Harm, skin to skin, and their play turned quickly to passion. Their love making was heated with an air of desperation, as though they wanted to confirm that they could repeat the experience that a short while ago had changed their lives.

Some minutes later they again lay together, breathing heavily and feeling a few aches begin from newly used muscles. Mac looked at Harm. His eyes were closed and the look on his face was relaxed, happy, and contented. She smiled lovingly and ran a finger over his chest muscles. Harm opened his eyes and squinted at Mac. "Don't tell me you're still looking for trouble?"

"I never was looking for trouble. You started it."

Harm was too tired to continue physical activity right now. Winning the wrestling match didn't seem to be important any longer. "Whatever you say," he conceded with a tired sigh.

Mac continued to look at the face of the man that she was finally able to freely admit to herself that she loved .. the lifetime together, till death us do part kind of love. "I love you, Harm. And I want all the things you told me you want .. for us to be a couple, marriage .. and we do have deal to share a baby, remember?"

With a loving laugh, Harm hugged Mac to him. Then he released her and said, "let's go to bed, Marine. I have a feeling we won't be getting as much sleep as usual, but we won't regret it one bit."

As Harm and Mac pulled the covers around them, both were thinking how much their lives had changed in just a few weeks. How an assignment not so different from many other dangerous assignments they had been in together over the years had nearly cost them everything but ended giving them more than they ever imagined. They fell asleep in each other's arms, contemplating their new and joyous future together.

**END**


End file.
